


New

by TristaML



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, BAMF goku, Bulma is not a complete bitch, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Smut, Excessive Cursing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Plot, Slow Burn, Smart Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Some Humor, Tags Are Hard, Tragedy, Vegeta is a man-whore, Work In Progress, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 168,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TristaML/pseuds/TristaML
Summary: COMPLETE!Goku/Vegeta KakaVege yaoi Humans A/U no powers.Vegeta and Bulma get divorced. Now, five years later, Vegeta is constantly in between jobs because of his bad attitude, and too "busy" to deal with real life due to his many bad habits. When a stranger Vegeta doesn’t expect comes into his life, he’s forced to question his ways. Can this man show him what happiness is, and teach him what it means to build long-lasting relationships? Or will he lose the battle against himself, and the only good things that ever happened to him, at the cost of his own stubborn pride?
Relationships: Kakarot/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 297
Kudos: 176
Collections: Baby Buu’s Favs





	1. 1

**New**

Vegeta was pissed. Taking entrance to his barely furnished, hardly used apartment, he looked upon his son, fuming. Being slightly buzzed and recently laid still wasn’t helping.

Monetary frustrations aside, his sixteen-year-old is not making things easy on him. Meanwhile his ex-wife is constantly barraging him to “do better” even though _she’s_ never available to anyone for more than an hour at a time unless she wants something. She constantly pushes their son onto him because she’s too busy to watch him properly, and while she keeps their seven-year-old daughter, Bra, most of the time, she still wants Vegeta to come by more often than not. Vegeta can’t stand not being able to see his little girl on a daily basis, but the idea of going over to Capsule Corp., his previous home and his ex-wife’s ridiculous mansion, wasn’t an appealing one.

Now, even years after the divorce, which he went into with a good bit of money from being on his own, despite his shitty upbringing and life decisions, he’s been left with nothing but two kids he barely knows and a long-term reoccurring headache. At least Bulma doesn’t make him pay child support, not that she needs the money, but even he has to admit that he’s been struggling to make ends meet while trying his best to maintain some sort of normalcy in his home with a rowdy teenager.

“Damn it, Trunks…” he growled to his son. The girl he’d brought over was leaving as quickly as she could, still scantily clad, closing the front door behind her too irritatingly audible for Vegeta’s already throbbing head.

 _Pissed_ doesn’t do his current state any justice. Neither does the word _rowdy_ accurately describe his son.

He couldn’t blame Trunks, really. He blames Bulma. And himself. After all, she’s a rich, snobby, conceited woman who thinks Trunks and Bra can do no wrong. Bra is much too young to get into any trouble as it is, and whenever Trunks is with her, he’s perfect (to her knowledge), and Vegeta’s an arrogant, rough around the edges type of man, who is less compliant than he should be, especially when it comes to things like keeping his mouth shut, holding a job, and dealing with the law. Well, at least he hasn’t had any run ins with the cops in the last few years.

“What?” Trunks shrugs, half-covered by the blankets he and the girl had brought into the living room, and he was sporting a devilishly charming smile, only a _little_ embarrassed at being caught.

 _Embarrassed_ isn’t the right word to use here, either. He’s been caught before. Several times. Perhaps he was just feeling _stupid_ for being out in the living room where he was more likely to get caught in the first place.

Vegeta resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead he felt his lip curl up and his glare deepen. He thought of things to say, of course, but nothing he could say was going to change anything. His words would only be half-hearted comments about keeping his dick to himself that Trunks wouldn’t obey, or a crude remark about how unacceptable his attitude has been recently, or worse, a berating stab at the inadequacies of his ability to at least _try_ to be discrete about his juvenile, and therefore _illegal_ , sexual endeavors.

Honestly, it wasn’t the fact that his son was having sex that bothered him. He’s sixteen, and as a man, he gets it. As a father though, he wasn’t _supposed_ to just let it slide. It wasn’t even about the act so much as it was the blatant disrespect his son was showing him. The complete disregard for any and all rules he has in his house. (Which he wasn’t sure he ever covered the girl topic clearly- the rule was more of a “don’t do anything that might be bothersome to me” thing and he figured that pretty much covered it, but apparently not). The problem was the disobedience Trunks was more than willing to act upon in his stubborn, willful desires to do as he pleases regardless of anyone else, or the consequences.

The problem was that his prissy, rich, pigheaded son was growing up to be increasingly more like himself, and that’s the last thing he needs.

The problem was that Vegeta felt like he was constantly fighting his own fight or flight instincts, especially when it came to his children. To his _life_. Should he stay and risk damage to their wellbeing by exposing them to the shit person that he is, or should he leave, and possibly risk their own psyches turning against themselves, blaming themselves, questioning themselves, and then becoming like him anyways because they’d then have a similar taste of the same bitterness that Vegeta knew all too well in not having his own father growing up.

It seemed to be a lose-lose.

And Vegeta was, beyond everything else, pissed. Pissed because he has no control, and he _needs_ control.

He was pissed because he got fired last month. Again. He’s been trying to hide it. He just can’t keep a damn job. Because he’s an asshole. Now he’s about to lose this apartment and have to move. _Again._ He hasn’t told Trunks about any of that, yet, and he has a feeling he’s not going to be happy about it.

Furthermore, he’s pissed because he can’t seem to do anything right. In his _life._ Because he’s just as selfish and stubborn as his ex but without the money to back it up.

Pissed because he _lost_ the money that he _had_ when he got into the damn marriage in the first place.

Pissed because it was _all his fault_ that he even got a divorce.

Stupid fucking libido. Stupid fucking attraction to _men_.

Trunks, upon not receiving any type of verbal bashing from his father thus far, gathered the blankets around him and stood up. “Well, I’m gonna just head to bed…”

Vegeta didn’t say anything as he watched him leave. He didn’t know what to say that would make a difference. What could he tell him when he knew Trunks would just combat him for his own shortcomings? Like he’s done before. Every single time.

Trunks escaped as quickly and as dignified as he could, leaving Vegeta standing there, now staring into the wall. He hardly even blinked as he waited for the door to Trunks’ room to shut before he finally snapped back to reality and decided to move through the home himself.

Trunks would probably invite the girl back over after an hour or so, once he thought his father was asleep. He’s done _that_ before, too.

 _‘Fuck,’_ Vegeta though, and he threw his keys onto the counter, placing his wallet and his phone down beside them.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

In all honesty, he wasn’t all that mad at his son. He was just fed up with how things were going, even now, five years after the divorce.

Trunks knew why his parents had divorced. No one had tried to hide it. The saddest part was that Trunks’ only concern about the separation was the fact that his father was apparently bi, which he admittedly never saw coming, and apparently, he was more interested in men than in his beautiful mother. And even more so, he had been willing to throw away everything he had- his _perfect life_ -on a not even above average one-night stand. At least, that was the one he’d been caught by.

Trunks is mad at him, still, for cheating on his mom. For admitting it and moving out like it was nothing. For never apologizing. For not even bothering to make it better or drag it out like ever cared to begin with.

He’s mad at him for agreeing to leave Bra behind, even though both Vegeta and Trunks know that she needs her mother more than them. Still, he wasn’t trying hard enough to see her in his eyes.

He’s mad at him for failing at everything he’s tried to do after the fact, too, and becoming the very thing his mother said he was- a deadbeat jerk who can’t hold a job to make ends meet even when all the tools to do so are handed to him, which they had been.

Is this acting out some sort of payback? Or is this simply… learned behavior? After all, Trunks had just had over a different girl _last night._

How could Vegeta blame his son for his bad behavior when his own has been less than acceptable?

Less than desirable, even.

He was never there for him as a kid. Well, rarely, anyways. He _is_ still in his life and he would _never_ abandon him like his own father did, not, at least, while he’s still so young. But he was never comforting or talkative. Never inviting or inclusive. Never warm and kind, like he’s overheard some of Trunks’ friends describe their dads. He was rarely supportive if he was ever in trouble, or even interested in what he was doing whenever he went out, or how things were going for him at school.

Vegeta sighed as he sat at the kitchen table and went through the laundry list of things he’s messed up over the years. Yes, he blames himself, but how could he not? An even better question: How could he give Trunks those things, and have those qualities, when he’d never gotten any of those experiences as a child for himself. He doesn’t know _how_ to be those things. He doesn’t know if he ever _can_ be those things.

He figured that, at best, Trunks would eventually turn eighteen, be legally allowed to move out on his own, in which case he’d probably go off to some fancy college out of town, on his mother’s dime, of course, and he’ll never come around to see him again. Never be exposed to his bad fatherly conduct again. Never be left less than satisfied by Vegeta’s lack of compassion again. Never be affected by his poor decisions again.

Bra will be okay, at least she’s not exposed to him like Trunks is, right?

As sad as that sounded, Vegeta didn’t doubt that it was true, and to some degree, it made him feel a little better about things. He knew Trunks’ mother would set him up for success. He is the heir to her fortune, after all, and so he knew his son would never have to deal with any of the troubles that life has thrown his way. And Bra, well, she’ll be perfectly fine under her mother’s dominion until she gets old enough to start making her own decisions.

At least _one_ of his problems will be resolved.

His _other_ problems… Well… He didn’t know what do about _those._

His other problems involved staying out too late with random strangers he couldn’t care less about just to get some kicks. Fighting in fight clubs around the city just to score some cash. Getting arrested for disorderly conduct and _blowing_ the money he’d just won on court costs. Hopping from job to job until no one would hire him for his track record off “bad-attitude” and “does not work well with others”. Oh, and always going out to eat, which doesn’t sound that bad, but it was a waste of money that resulted in never providing any sort of home cooked meal, or any sort of food in the kitchen, period. And never being around. At all. Unless it was times like this.

Times like this were more frequent than not.

Who knows what Trunks does when he’s _not_ here?

“Trunks!” Vegeta bellowed, suddenly at his son’s bedroom door, pounding away at it like the law. He would know.

“What?!” he heard his son’s muffled voice call, unaffected.

Vegeta tried to open the door, but it was locked. Force it is.

“Hey!” Trunks cried as the door was kicked open, lock broken, the whole door now barely hanging on by the hinges.

“Don’t lock the damn door next time,” Vegeta sniped.

Appalled, Trunks stood to his feet, setting his controller down. He yelled, “You can’t just-”

“No more,” Vegeta interrupted, his eyes angry upon his son.

Trunks might have flinched in his younger years, from sheer intimidation of the man, but Vegeta never lifted a finger to him. After another moment, Trunks dared, “No more _what_?”

“No more girls over here.”

Trunks scoffed, “Yeah, okay, like I’m gonna listen to you! You’re never even around!”

“You _will_ listen to me, damn it! I won’t have you getting some _girl_ pregnant on _my_ watch! That’s the last night I need!” He thought, _‘Forbid the girl is a fucking gold-digger.’_ Given the rich school that Trunks attends, and the fact that Trunks is probably the wealthiest of all of the students there, Vegeta assumed she probably _was_.

Mockingly, ignorantly, Trunks answered, “I was going to use protection!”

“That’s not the point! I don’t care! You have a car! Go somewhere else! Don’t bring them here!”

“Oh, is that what _you_ do?! Cause I’ve been wondering where the hell _you’ve_ been going off to all the damn time! Because I know it’s not to _work_! You don’t work _that_ late! Or maybe you wouldn’t care so much if I was bringing guys home, is that it?!”

Vegeta argued, ignoring his question, “What I do is none of your concern!”

“Wasn’t any of _Mom’s_ concern, either! Right?!”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this!”

“At least I’m not cheating on anyone! I don’t have a girlfriend! I can do what I want!”

Vegeta sneered and growled, but lowering his voice, he argued, “Don’t…”

“Don’t _WHAT_?!” Trunks challenged.

This is how it is. This is all there ever is between them. All there ever is between him and Bulma, too, for that matter. At least Bra was unaware of her mostly absent father’s track record.

 _‘Don’t be like me…’_ Vegeta thought, his eye twitching. “Don’t argue with me. I give you plenty of freedom. I don’t ask anything from you. So give me at least this much. I can’t stand coming home to your… conquests.”

“Feh,” Trunks crashed back down into his bed, crossing his arms over his chest, and glaring at him.

This whole thing is pathetic. Vegeta knew it. Trunks knew it. There was no point in arguing further, and they _both_ knew it.

Vegeta turned heel and walked off, heading to his bedroom. He could hear Trunks trying to put his door back together as he closed and locked his own. He knew he’d figure it out before long. The boy has his mother’s genius.

He kicked off his boots and fell into bed, not bothering with any of his other clothes or even bothering to get under the covers. He needed sleep. The sooner the better, especially since he figured Trunks would call the girl back over anyways, just to spite him. He has his arrogance, too, after all.

He didn’t want to be awake to have to deal with that. Not tonight.

The next morning when Vegeta awoke he thought he was running late only to remember he didn’t have anywhere to be. It was always like that. Being in between jobs really messes with his schedule. He grumbled to himself, somewhat relieved to know he wasn’t late to anything, but more overwhelmed by other thoughts than not, and after mulling over his options, he decided that he needed to at least get up and make sure Trunks made it to school.

After relieving himself he walked by Trunks’ bedroom, the door was fixed and open. The room was empty, but Vegeta noticed a shirt that didn’t belong. Groaning, Vegeta headed to the kitchen. Trunks was definitely gone. Good. He wasn’t in the mood to yell at him some more.

He made some coffee and checked his phone, which was dying because he hadn’t bothered to charge it last night. It was only seven forty-five in the morning. No wonder he felt rested. He was never one for sleeping in. He grumbled again as he waited for the coffee to brew and looked through the fridge where he knew nothing was stored. Bad habit from living in luxury with his ex for over ten years.

He figured he’d have to get something to eat eventually, and that he’d need to attempt to find a way to make some money today, _again_ , but he also planned on working out to relieve some stress, so after showering and dressing in something interview worthy, he grabbed his gym bag, his car keys, his dying phone, and his wallet, and headed out the door.

At least he still has his sports car. Not _everything_ was a total loss.

He plugged his phone into the car charger and drove through the city in search of a place to get a light breakfast and do some research. Once he found a small café he deemed good enough, he parked and opted to sit outside while he ordered some food and rummaged the internet for new work options, whether long-term or short-term, making sure to mark the days and times and locations for fight nights available in his calendar. All of them. At least those never let him down. His winning streak was a perk to growing up in rougher areas, he supposed, but that couldn’t last forever. It wasn’t a way of life. Not anymore. It was a good way to stay on the good side of some of the cops in the area though. So long as he never told on them for being there and they always padded their pockets whenever he won, he’d get let off with a warning if they ever encountered him in a lesser desired compromising place.

After eating, finding some success in the job hunt, and contacting a few businesses with his resume, like he’s done almost every day for an entire month, now, he paid the bill with some loose cash in his wallet and headed to the gym, planning on hopefully dropping by a few places in person to solicit an interview once he was finished with his workout.

He arrived at the gym quickly and was eager to get inside. This was the best part of his day. Getting to work off the stress of everything else, and maybe even meet someone who might be interested in spending some time between the sheets.

He was usually successful in both endeavors, but he didn’t always call whatever poor sap decided he might be worth wasting some time on. Not until he looked into his background a little bit anyways. He wasn’t interested in the married men, (Most of the time) or the confused ones. And while lifting weights only did so much to relieve the tension of having no income at the end of the day, at least he has a new name and phone number to stalk later on if he gets bored. When he gets bored.

He got back into his car, and while his body was humming with the satisfaction of exercise, his mind was still reeling with unease. Something nagged at him that he should probably try to be at least a _little_ more responsible and the feeling urged him to head out of the city and towards a marketplace where he could at least get some food for the fridge at his apartment. Since he still has one. For now.

He didn’t know why his mind was telling him to be a little more domestic at the moment, but he didn’t fight it, for once. When he pulled up to the grocery store, he parked and glared at the entrance for a moment before heading inside.

This was so out of his comfort zone, still, something was tugging at him, telling him this is what he should be doing. Like he was here to get something in particular. Like he was forgetting something.

Normally the only things he bought at grocery stores were hygienic items and coffee, but today, like a fucking loser, he was filling up the cart with whatever he could think of that might be easy to make, or that might sound appealing to a sixteen year old who could definitely eat up his damn rent if he wasn’t careful.

He supposed Trunks gets his appetite from him. Trunks, unfortunately, gets a lot of things from him.

Vegeta stood staring at the fruits and vegetables for some time. His cart is only half full, but his mind was overflowing with unfinished thoughts, and he couldn’t seem to focus on what he was doing when a voice calls out from behind him.

“Hey!” It says, the voice of a man with a tone way too chipper for Vegeta’s sensitive ears, “Are you… gonna pick something?”

Vegeta turns around and glares at the man who he suspects is standing way too close to him.

The man merely smiles. Vegeta glanced down. He had him blocked in with his cart. He was about to say something smart about personal space when the other man interrupted him.

“Do you mind?” he asks.

“Do I mind _what_?” he retorts, somewhat absentmindedly, now staring the idiot down.

The man, taller and broader than him, and obviously not disturbed by Vegeta’s attitude or their proximity, reaches over him and grabs a bundle of bananas, placing them in his own cart. Still smiling.

Vegeta still glares, but his curiosity is piqued the longer he looks at him. Up and down.

“Those are the good ones,” the man points at something Vegeta doesn’t bother to check for, and then walks off.

Vegeta, who at first wasn’t paying any attention to him other than to warn him of his annoyance, is suddenly caught staring at him as he walks away. _‘Stupid clothes,’_ Vegeta thinks, _‘but fucking hell, he’s_ hot _.’_ Vegeta shakes his head and grabs a bundle for himself, not really thinking much more about the fruit, and trying to get the man out of his head when his phone goes off. It’s a text from his ex.

 **Bulma** : Don’t forget that today is Trunks’ birthday, Vegeta. You forgot last year. He was really upset about it, too, in case you don’t remember. The least you could do is get him a cake. He likes chocolate. I’ll be taking him and Bra out to dinner, but he’s going back to your place for the night. I’d invite you to go with us, but I know you won’t come.

 _‘FUCK.’_ Vegeta growls and heads over to the bakery section. _That’s_ what he was forgetting. _That’s_ what brought him _here_. At least some functions in his brain are still firing, even if only at half power. Damn it.

He stands there staring at all the different options for some time before grabbing one and putting it in his cart, overly annoyed at this point.

She’s right. It’s the least he could do. It’s also the best. He’s going to have to put all of this on a credit card as it is.

He heads down a few more isles to grab some last-minute items. Beer. Water. Chips for Trunks because he doesn’t eat that garbage. Then he goes to stand in line, embarrassed to even have to do _this_ much.

When he finally reaches the register, he goes for his wallet.

“156.09$” the woman says.

Where are his credit cards? Where is his debit card? They were all definitely in there last night… He searches and searches. Where are they?!

“SHIT!” he yells, interrupting several of the other customer’s otherwise pleasant day, and many of them turn to stare at him. Either the man he fucked last night stole it from him or… “Damn it, Trunks!” he cried, running a hand through his hair in distress.

“I got his groceries…” a somewhat familiar, sweet voice calls from right behind him in line.

The cashier looks _almost_ as shocked as Vegeta, but not quite, especially when Vegeta turns around and sees _him._

“No,” Vegeta argues flatly, “Forget it. I don’t need them.” Upon second glance into his face, he’s just as handsome as Vegeta thought the first time, but clearly, he’s also got to be a fucking moron. Who just pays for a stranger’s groceries? How far away from the city is he?

“No, really,” the man smiles, “It’s no problem,” and he flashes his card at him before handing it to the cashier.

“I said _no_. I don’t want your help,” Vegeta glares, feeling nauseatingly upset by the gall of this guy and he’s pretty sure he’s _blushing_ at this point. At least, his face is flushed with anger.

The infuriating man simply smiles and tells her, “Go ahead,” and he nods at Vegeta as though to say, _‘Don’t worry about it.’_

She swiped the card before Vegeta could say another word and he stared at the other man, glaring, embarrassed, and _pissed_ as the customers around them all gushed and commented about how sweet he is to have done something so nice like that. The other man just laughs it off.

Vegeta’s items are already being loaded into the cart as he’s still processing what to do. There’s way too much chatter going on around them and towards him, even, and he can’t just glare at the man all day, so eventually, he moves out of the way and heads outside, where he waits for him, cart and all, at the entrance.

The moment the other man comes out of the grocery store he’s met by an angry, mortified Vegeta, who snarls firmly, “Who the hell do you think you are?! What was that?! I told you I didn’t need your charity!”

“Oh, um,” the man stares at him, blankly, “You’re welcome?”

Vegeta blusters, “I didn’t say thank you!”

“I know,” the man chuckles, “I guess I just thought that’s what you were trying to say.”

Balking, Vegeta shoves his cart at him, crashing it into his, “Here! They’re yours!” and he stomps away, heading to his car all the while shaking his head at the audacity of the man.

The man follows after him, though, and grabs onto his wrist as he asks Vegeta to stop.

Vegeta turns and throws an old move he learned back when he used to study martial arts, it was meant to release his arm and knock the other man away from him, but Vegeta finds himself even _more_ surprised when his legs are swept out from beneath him as he’s being laid gently on his back on the ground, the man’s hand holding him by his shirt. Now he’s staring up into the other man’s face with wide, wild eyes, and the guy is looking down on him somewhat apologetically.

“Sorry about that,” the man says, letting go of his shirt and offering him a hand up. “Looks like a nice shirt you have on, too. Didn’t mean to get it dirty. It was just a reflex…”

 _‘Who is this guy?!’_ Vegeta blinks, _‘What just happened?!’_

Swatting the offending hand away and standing to his feet, Vegeta is, at this point, enraged and seriously confused. He takes a step back, assessing the entirety of the situation. His anger at this point far outweighs his desire to get away, and he looks the man up and down for a moment before blurting out, “What the hell do you want?!”

“Um…?”

“I said you can have the food, damn it! You paid for it! Now leave me alone! And by the way, that was just a lucky move!” Vegeta bristled.

“Okay…” the man answered, holding up his hands in submission to go along with his honest face.

Vegeta sneered, straightened his shirt as he glared at him, and turned to leave.

“Wait!” The man cried, “What about… the birthday cake…?”

Vegeta halted. Had he been… _watching_ what he was buying? “What about it?” Vegeta growled over his shoulder.

“Well, I figured it would be a waste for you not to be able to bring it home to whoever you bought that for…”

“Maybe I just bought it for myself, hmm?” Vegeta argued, finally turning back to him.

“I doubt that…” he replied, and he gave him yet another small smile.

Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, but the man stopped him with the simple gesture of taking a quick step forward. Vegeta took a quick step back.

He offered, “Hey… I think… Since you obviously feel like you’d owe me something if I let you take the groceries… why don’t you just… pay me back? I got my own cart full,” he points behind him without looking where he’s pointing, and missing the mark, as he explained, “I really don’t need yours. Or want them. Honest! I was just trying to be nice… Maybe we could meet up some time and… Make it even? That way you get to keep the items and not have to feel so bad about it.” He was scratching the back of his head now as he added, “Geeze, it’s as though no one’s ever done anything nice for you before.”

Vegeta didn’t know what to say to any of that. He wasn’t _wrong_.

Another few seconds ticked by in his reluctance to respond. People were exiting the grocery store, staring at their carts by the front door, and then the two of them, in the middle of the parking lot. Vegeta looked around and decided he needed to get the hell out of here.

“What do ya say?” the man smiled, “You can give me your number and-”

“Sure! Yes! _Fine_! Whatever,” Vegeta conceded, brushing past him and heading towards his cart. He grabbed it and turned, rattling off his number to the man, who had pulled his phone out and was heading back to grab his cart as well, barely ready to put the number in his phone. Once Vegeta dislodged his cart from his, he practically ran past him, heading to his car once more.

“Hey, wait!” The man called out to him, following him through the parking lot.

Vegeta’s shoulders tensed and he turned around, annoyed, embarrassed, and wanting to disappear. “What?!”

“Your name… What is it? So I can add you as a contact…”

He hesitated. He wasn’t sure why. He’d have to rethink this entire thing over again when he gets back to his apartment. Finally, he told him, deciding not to lie about it like he sometimes does, “Vegeta.”

The man smiled, “I’m Goku. Well, my real name’s Kakarot, but you can call me Goku. Everyone calls me Goku.”

Vegeta nodded and glared and remarked, “Okay, _Kakarot_ ,” rudely, disobeying his request to call him otherwise, before turning and heading back to his car for the third time.

“I’ll call you…” the man, _Kakarot_ , smiled.

Vegeta refused to even so much as glance back at him as he was all but throwing the items into his car and then peeling out of the parking lot. Even as he was driving down the road, he didn’t know why he was still so pissed, but he assumed it probably had to do with the fact that this _Kakarot_ guy had not only bought his groceries, but made him feel guilty about trying to refuse bringing home a cake to his son, and also somehow _laid him out on the damn ground_ all within a fifteen minute time period.

And damn is he fucking _hot_.


	2. 2

After getting back home and putting the groceries away he checked his credit cards and his bank card for the most recent activity. Some burger place, then some random arcade. Then something he could only assume was a clothing store.

Fucking Trunks.

If this is his idea of a good time on his dime, Vegeta sure hoped he was enjoying himself because he was going to get it when he gets home. Birthday or not. At least, he still assumed it was Trunks. He didn’t think the guy he was with last night would be going to any arcades…

He cancelled the card that had been used and ordered a new one. He cancelled the rest of them, too, just in case. Trunks would sure be surprised by that the next time he tries to use any of them. Not that it would make much of a difference to him. All he has to do is call his mother and she’ll take care of whatever bill he racked up. Spoiled brat. Both of them.

Vegeta grumbled again as he fixed himself something to eat, a measly sandwich and some soup. He's survived off less.

He tried to make sense of his day as he ate. He tried to get that man, _Kakarot_ , out of his mind. He tried to think of some way of being _nice_ to his son whenever he gets home in spite of the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves it. He had to keep reminding himself that it is his birthday, after all.

He decided none of that was working to numb his throbbing head, so he opened his laptop and started firing off emails to potential employers. Luckily for him he has a desirable skillset, and he didn’t think it would take long to get an offer for an interview. He’s done plenty of them in the past and he was great at them. Most of the time.

As a prior Project Manager, with experience at multiple companies, including his ex-wife’s whenever she needed him, his campaigns always provided excellent turnout, but unfortunately he’d have to embellish why he has been fired so often from his previous jobs and hope that none of the companies would call for a reference. Maybe they’d just be desperate enough to need him. Maybe they’d see Capsule Corp., where he “worked” for ten years, and where he also _technically_ resigned from, _he was definitely_ _not fired_ , and hopefully they’d think that was good enough. It’s worked before.

He _hated_ the job he was educated for, but it _is_ something he’s good at. It’s where his fancy degree had gotten him, after all, and he’d worked so hard for that damn thing.

He’d been ambitious in his youth, clever and diligent, although he stemmed from a more _alternative_ lifestyle. Still, he’d chosen a good career where he knew he’d make more than enough money in the long-run, he just didn’t account for his own personal narcissistic shortcomings to play such a large factor in his overall success.

The money he’d won from gambling in his youth and winning in local fights had paved the way for a prestigious degree in a notable career, and he’d paid off all of his debts and then some. Once he’d gotten started, he was an impressive tycoon, moving his way up the corporate and social ladder like it was child’s play.

At some point in his life, he had been proud of that fact. He’d survived the streets with no drug addiction or _serious_ criminal record, and he managed to make a lavish living, in luxury even, that he’d built all on his own. But his thirst for more was unquenchable. Somewhere along the lines of getting where he _thought_ he wanted to be, where he _believed_ he _deserved_ to be, he decided that in order to seal the deal on the 180 he’d made of his life, that the _best_ thing he could do was marry the wealthy heiress and have children. The lifestyle they lived was enviable, but as time rolled on and his priorities changed, he lost the drive he’d had and became bored. His money, which he’d meshed with Bulma’s, was lost to her fortune because of his poor decisions, and his work ethic was lost to a self-imposed shrewdness he couldn’t shake.

When it came to the work itself, though, which is all he felt should really matter, he could do the job in his sleep. He could do delegation. He could do problem solving. Intimidation? Absolutely. That last one probably shouldn’t be included but anyone in business knows that a little persuasion is sometimes necessary in order to not be bought out or swindled into a bad deal. Bulma knows he’d been more than helpful for his part in some of her most important business deals. Besides, he knew a crooked headman when he saw one, and he wasn’t above playing dirty to come out on top.

In any case, he has plenty of experience. He has plenty of knowledge, including book smarts _and_ street smarts. He has _all_ the capability! He just _thoroughly_ lacks the social skills necessary to do the job a little more… professionally. It’s definitely his attitude that needs some tweaking, and while he knows he needs to work on that, he didn’t see it changing. People are just too stupid and annoying. And conniving. He would know. He wished things like smiles and small talk over coffee weren’t nearly as important as actually getting shit done.

He spent a few hours narrowing down his searches and exhausting his options before he figures that he’s spent enough of his day trying to make up for the mistakes of yesterday. Once through, he decides to head out. Trunks is going to be out for a while yet. There’s no point in waiting for him to come home now.

He grabs a jacket and heads to the front door before remembering he doesn’t have any of his credit cards or even his bank card for that matter. Pissed, _again_ , he turns back and heads to his bedroom to grab some money out of his stash of cash. He pulled out a couple hundred and left. He might have to go the bank and take out some money from his savings at this rate. Not that there’s much in there, but still, it wasn’t a helpful thought.

While at the table at a restaurant far too fancy for someone who’s in between jobs, Vegeta sat and ate dinner alone, sipping on a cocktail, or three, that he couldn’t really afford, and going through his phone without paying any attention to any of the men whose names and numbers he was researching.

He supposed he should be better than this. He supposed if he felt like he had to look someone up to make sure they weren’t going to try to kill him or ruin his life (or that he might ruin theirs) then he shouldn’t be bothering, but that’s what his world has come to nowadays. He figured he didn’t _have_ to be filling his time with something he _knew_ wasn’t going to mean anything overall, but it’s become more of a habit now than anything else. After all, this is what got him into this situation in the first place. Why should he give it up, now?

Deep down he knew he was better than this. Better than worrying about trivial things like _‘Do I have enough gas in my car to get me to an interview?’_ and _‘When the hell are my new cards going to come in?’_ and _‘Fucking teenagers…’_ He knew he was better than wasting his time on menial sex, too. In his younger years he was fairly certain that he’d planned to hold himself to a higher standard. He knew that none of this was what he really wanted for his life.

He could technically be having dinner with Bulma and his children, a _free_ dinner for that matter, but he was too damn stubborn to put himself in that position. Too damn stubborn to sit across from her, with their smart-ass of a son and their all-too innocent daughter, while Bulma asked him about how he was doing just so he could lie about it.

It’s not that he didn’t want to see her or spend time with them. She’s not so bad. Actually, she’s fucking great. Everything about her is amazing. Even her bad attitude. Especially her bad attitude. Vegeta still loves her. Not _in love,_ of course, but a type of love? Yes. Respect? Absolutely. He knew that if he told her he was having a hard time, even as irritated as she is with him, she’d still help him. She’d hand him whatever he needs and tell him that she was happy to do it. Aside from that, he’d loved to see his little girl, but the visit would come at a price. Bulma wouldn’t let him go more than an hour without striking up a long conversation over doing better and changing his ways.

Fuck that. If he wanted someone’s opinion, he’d have kept going back to the psychiatrist the state wanted him to see back in his younger years. And if he wanted someone’s help it definitely wasn’t going to be _Bulma’s_. And if he wanted to see his daughter, he was going to do it on his own terms. Call it a pride thing, but he’s the one who messed it up and he’d be damned if he’s going to try to take it all back, now. He’s the one who said he would be just fine on his own and determined that he was absolutely going to make certain that she knows, at the end of the day, that he was right. He couldn’t ask her for _help_. He would _never_.

Besides, it’s only a matter of time before Trunks is old enough to be on his own. A year, in fact, and Vegeta figured he could do this for another year, and then, when Trunks finally goes off to college and decides he wants nothing to do with him, he can jump cities, drop off the face of whole damn planet, for that matter, and not have to worry about what anyone else thinks about what he’s doing. Maybe Bra would be better off without him, too.

He wondered if that was the same conclusion that his father had come to when he’d abandoned him. The thought was troubling, but not uncommon. He ignored it this time, and while some of the time he stayed steadfast to his promise to himself that he would never _actually_ leave _,_ the rest of the time he thought it was a pretty good idea.

Upon lack of any true conclusion to his troubles, he was at least pleased that he now has a newly refined list of names he planned on giving a call sometime later on in the week for an easy fuck, and a pretty good buzz to boot, so he paid for his drinks and left quickly, soaring through the streets, hoping not to get pulled over, but not really caring either way. Normally he’d go out to a bar, but tonight he figured he should be a little more responsible for his son’s sake, so he headed home.

When he got there, he wasn’t surprised that Trunks hadn’t returned yet. It was getting kind of late, though, so he assumed he’d be home pretty soon.

He got the cake out and set it on the kitchen table, along with a plate and fork for Trunks. He stared at it, feeling stupid about such a piteous gift before he put the plate and the fork away not wanting it to look too cheesy, and he went to grab a beer and a book. He sat down on the couch, cracked open the beer and took a sip while opening the book to his previous spot. He began to read to numb his mind. He felt another headache coming on, the same one the drinks had only dulled. He tried his best to ignore it.

He glanced over at the cake. _‘That’s the best I can do?’_ he thought. He shook it off, took another drink, and went back to reading.

After a while he checked the time on his phone. 11:30pm. He looked at the door. No sound was coming from the other side of it whatsoever. He went back to reading.

 _‘Maybe I should… Try to talk to him… When he gets here…’_ he looked over at the cake again for a moment, then he went back to reading and eventually, he dozed off.

“You slept on the couch…” Trunks called from the kitchen after hearing Vegeta groan, slowing waking up. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that…”

Vegeta sat up, popping his back from the uncomfortable position he’d been lying in, and didn’t reply. He simply glared in his son’s direction as he was finishing packing his bag for school. Well, he _hoped_ he was packing it for school, anyways.

“You lost your job again, didn’t you?”

Vegeta refused to answer, still groggy and somehow annoyed to just be awake, much less chastised by a seventeen-year-old with no worries in the world.

“Mom says she invited you to dinner. You should have come. Would have been nice…” his son was muttering as he threw on a Capsule Corp. jacket and flung his bag over his shoulder.

 _‘I wasn’t_ actually _invited,’_ Vegeta thought, closing the book that had slid into his lap and tossing it onto the coffee table. The thud wasn’t particularly loud, but it still triggered a bad sensation to his brain. He held his head. _‘One too many martinis last night…’_

“Thanks for the cake. Gotta go,” Trunks mumbled just before he escaped through the front door.

Vegeta stared at the door as it closed behind his son and grunted, “Happy birthday,” to no one but himself, and a day late for that matter, before getting up and heading for the shower. He looked over at the cake on his way to the bathroom. It hadn’t been touched.

He felt the pang of utter failure tugging at him as he shed his clothes and turned the water on. Even as he stepped inside, guilt and shame lingered over him, and as much as he tried to scrub himself clean, it wasn’t working. As much as he tried to tell himself things were going to change, he didn’t think he could make this better.

He got out of the shower and changed into some workout clothes, grabbed a bite to eat from the kitchen, which was sort of a nice pleasantry, and then he headed out to hit the gym. That would at least help him feel minutely better. Help him feel _somewhat_ in control. He checked the gas in his car. He had enough for now, but he was definitely going to have to fill up, soon.

He did his normal routine, run, lift weights, then run again for a cool down. He hit the weights pretty hard today, even in spite of the stiffness in his neck and back from having slept on the couch, so when it came time for his cool down run, he ran for a little longer, and tried to zone out as much as possible.

Then his phone started buzzing. He didn’t recognize the number. Normally he wouldn’t answer but since he was hoping to receive a call for an interview from one of the numerous places he’d applied to, he picked it up, slowing down his run to a mere jog before answering.

“This is Vegeta,” he tried not to pant into the phone.

“Hey!” a voice way too enthusiastic to be genuine replied.

At first, Vegeta thought nothing of it. Most businesspeople were too friendly with their greetings, too positive with their daily recited self-righteous affirmations, and Vegeta rolled his eyes as he waited for the rest of the man’s fake-impromptu screening.

“What are you doing?” the man on the other end of the line suddenly asked. The voice sounded puzzled. Genuinely curious. And somewhat familiar…

Vegeta slowed his jog down to a complete stop, turning off the machine completely as he realized this might not be one of the phone calls he was hoping for. “Who is this?” he asked gruffly, and then he shook his head, still catching his breath, and reworded his statement in case he was wrong, “May I ask who’s calling and what this is regarding?”

The man on the other end of the line laughed.

_That laugh…_

“This is Goku! We met yesterday, remember? At the grocery store?”

Thank goodness Vegeta had stopped running because his whole heart-clenched the moment the man said his name.

“ _Kakarot_ ,” Vegeta growled into the phone. He’d forgotten all about _him_.

“Yeah!” The man must be smiling, because Vegeta felt like throwing up he sounded so damn cheerful. “Are you… okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine!” Vegeta replied, grabbing his things so that he could head to his car and have this embarrassing conversation in private, and he huffed, “Why do you ask?” as he pushed open the door to the outside world.

“Well, I don’t know…” Goku answered, “You seem out of breath…”

“I…” Vegeta pulled the phone away and noted to himself not to try to answer the phone next time he was working out, especially if it _is_ an actual job calling. He brought the phone back to his ear after calming his breathing and answered, “I was just finishing up a run.”

“I knew you worked out,” Goku laughed again.

“No shit,” Vegeta replied, now at his car but feeling weird about talking to this strange man. He huffed again, “Calling to collect your debt?” he asked sarcastically as he was opening his car door to step inside. _‘Of course, he is. He said he would. Nothing is free,’_ Vegeta thought.

“Well,” the other man hesitated, “Yeah. I mean, kind of.”

Vegeta paused, putting his head in his hand, waiting for him to say something else. How terribly, utterly embarrassing.

Then the man said, “… How’d the birthday go?”

“That’s none of your business!” Vegeta snapped, not having expected such a question.

“Sorry!” Goku answered, “I just thought I’d ask!”

“Well stop asking me personal questions! Do you want to meet up or not?!”

“Uh, yeah,” he hesitated, “So, when are you free?”

 _‘Anytime, unfortunately,’_ Vegeta thought, but he didn’t want it to seem like he had nothing going on. Then he realized he was going to have to dip into the cash back at the apartment again in order to pay him back, or go to the bank first, which would be a nuisance without his bank card. Then he realized he still hasn’t said anything and he didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t want to pay him back, so he replied, ‘Later tonight would be fine with me, but I am on a time crunch.” He sneered to himself, _‘Liar.’_

“Tonight’s not good for me, I’m working late. How about tomorrow?” Goku offered.

Vegeta’s mind whirred in agitation over this whole thing but he figured he’d take him at his offer. “Fine,” he shifted in the seat of his car, pausing as he thought of where the hell he should meet him. He didn’t necessarily want to go anywhere that he normally went. Suddenly this felt even more odd. He felt off, _personally_. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to meet him at a place where they might have a chance to sit and _talk_. He didn’t want this man knowing anything about him, but he didn’t want to meet him in a damn parking lot like they were doing a drug deal, either.

Goku, who was either completely dense, or incredibly perceptive, interrupted his train of thought, and suggested, “Okay, we could meet at Rebar, that’s not too far from me. I don’t know about you, though. Do you know where that is? Have you been there?”

 _‘Not in a while,’_ Vegeta thought. It was perfect. Well, it was good enough. “Alright,” he replied gruffly, ignoring his questions, “9 o’clock tomorrow night.”

“Sounds great!”

Vegeta sat there for a second, tried to think of something to say, but instead just hung up the phone with a quick, “See you then.” He didn’t even give him the chance to say goodbye. He didn’t _want_ to see him again, or meet up with him at all, but he had to, for his own sake, to pay back the debt he owed him. He’s going to do exactly that, pay him back, then they’ll be even, and they can go their separate ways. It’ll be like it never happened.

Later that day Vegeta finally did get a couple of call backs on the job front and he nailed both phone interviews, then later nailed some guy he can’t remember the name of right now. That didn’t matter, what matters is that he’s on his toes for his next interview. He was finally able to get some decent sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he thought about was the interview he has at 1pm. If this one doesn’t go well, he has another one set up for next Tuesday at noon, and hopefully by then he’d either be employed or have 5 more interviews to look forward to.

He could admit that it was sort of odd for the one company to be getting him in the door for an interview so quickly, but he was hoping that it was because they were desperate. He needed desperate. Desperate for them was good for him.

He also needed to be focused, so instead of going to the gym, which he knew would be more of a distraction than anything, he shut himself away in his room and did a nice, long, stretching routine, turning his phone to silent until his alarm was set to go off.

Trunks had gone off to school for the day and Vegeta had already gotten something to eat. He’d also gassed his car up early this morning and he knew exactly where to park before heading inside of the corporate office building. All he had to do was answer a few questions and make them believe that he was the right man for the job. Which he is. They need him. He just has to make them realize it.

Stupid corporate bullshit.

His alarm goes off and he gets ready to leave with plenty of time to spare. Heading down the road he’s feeling fairly confident. Walking into the building he’s practically feeling at home. He’s called into the interview room by a receptionist, and upon walking through the doors of the office, suddenly his confidence all but completely diminishes. Instead, it shifts.

“Vegeta Briefs!” Christopher calls to him, and the shock on the man’s face when he lifts his eyes up to actually _look_ at him is obvious.

Vegeta smirks, thoroughly amused at this turn of events and he watches as Christopher’s jaw drops.

How does he know his name is Christopher? Because he already knows him. A little _too_ well. He also gave him a fake name when they met, so Christopher is not only clearly a little confused, but Vegeta can see that he’s also growing highly embarrassed. It was cute, and Vegeta remembered him being _cute_ quite well.

After the receptionist closes the door behind him, Vegeta replies, “Hello, Christopher,” with an undertone he knew would make the man nervous. He immediately decides not to bother with being ashamed or feeling out of place. This could go one of two ways. Or maybe even a completely _different_ way, if he plays his cards right.

The man, although rattled, tried to remain all business, and he looks back down at the resume in front of him before his green eyes lift back to Vegeta’s obsidian ones. “Vegeta, huh?” he can’t help but chuckle.

“Nice to meet you, a little more _officially_ this time,” Vegeta returned the humor in kind.

The other man couldn’t help a sly smile. “I should have known you gave me a fake name. You gave me a fake number, too. After you spent the weekend in my penthouse.”

Vegeta only laughs and shrugs, walking through the room with the same haughtiness he generally does. He remarked, picking up one of the picture frames on the desk, “I was only looking out for your wife, you know. How is Amelia doing, by the way?”

Christopher blushed, and gulped, “Please… have a seat.”

Vegeta’s smirk only grew and he walked around to the other side of the desk, ignoring his offer.

So, he didn’t get the job. He wasn’t mad about it. There would have been too much temptation between him and _the boss_ if he worked there, anyways, and then poor Christopher’s wife would have eventually had to become a divorcee. He still got laid, and he got a hell of a good laugh out of it, too. That was good enough for him. Good enough for Christopher, too, he was sure. He was fairly certain that was the best interview _he’s_ ever conducted. It was definitely the best one he’s ever been through, even without getting hired.

When Vegeta got home he wasn’t expecting Trunks to be there, it was still a bit early in the day. He tried not to look at him, though, because he couldn’t seem to wipe the smug look from his own face even as he noticed him staring.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Trunks asked, flipping through channels on the TV in the living room absentmindedly.

“Nothing,” Vegeta answered, taking off his jacket and turning away from his too curious, too smart for his own good son.

“Interview?” Trunks wondered.

Vegeta grunted in affirmation, checking his phone as a distraction.

“Did it go well?”

Vegeta was glad he wasn’t facing him. He had to straighten out his crooked smile before he remarked, putting his phone back in his pocket, “I didn’t get the job, this time, but I have another interview next week, in case your Royal Nosiness would like to know.”

“How do you know you didn’t get it? Don’t they usually, like, string you along for a day or two first?”

Vegeta turned to him and let out a small chuckle. “Just trust me. I know. Besides, it’s for the best.”

Whatever Trunks thought of that comment he didn’t say, but he looked strangely suspicious. Or maybe it was the resemblance of Bulma’s piercingly blue eyes on their son that made Vegeta feel like he could see right through him the same way she often does. Or maybe he was just feeling guilty.

“What are you doing home so early?” Vegeta asked him, turning the conversation around.

Trunks shrugged, “I felt like leaving school. Class was boring.”

Vegeta eyed him, placing his keys on the table as he retorted, “You’re not allowed to do that, Trunks. Truancy and all. It could get you in trouble. And me.” He kept his wallet on him this time, which reminded him…

Trunks shrugged again, not even bothering to look at him, and said, “I’m about to graduate at the end of this school year, what’s half a day off every once in a while?”

Vegeta frowned. He wasn’t going to argue with him, but they still had some things to straighten out. He walked over to his son and held his hand out. “Cards. Now.”

Trunks looked up at him, no hint of remorse on his face whatsoever. He sighed and reached for his back pocket, going for his wallet. He pulled them out of it and handed them to him. “Don’t know why you care,” he responded cheekily, putting his wallet back, “You cancelled them, anyways.”

Vegeta’s patience suddenly grew thin, and he remarked, “Don’t know why you stole them. Your mother’s allowance is more than enough.” He stood there, waiting for a reply, but Trunks wouldn’t look at him. Vegeta had won this round. Sort of. He began to walk away, heading back towards the kitchen to see if there was anything he felt like eating. A lingering thought of setting boundaries nagged at him, and he knew there was no sense in stating in the obvious, but he did it anyways, as he told him, “Don’t let me catch you doing that again.”

Trunks mumbled, “Maybe I just thought you’d forget about my birthday again… and I figured you wanted to get me something for once.”

That stung. Vegeta stopped short of the kitchen doorway, his shoulders tensing. He growled over his shoulder at him, “What was that?”

Trunks dared, “You heard me.”

“Get the fuck out,” Vegeta demanded.

“What?” Trunks asked, turning to look at him like he’s lost his mind.

 _Now_ he has his attention. “You heard me!” Vegeta yelled, pointing at the front door, “Get out of this house! Don’t come back until you change your fucking attitude!”

“Apartment…” Trunks muttered as he stood up, throwing the remote onto the couch. He grabbed his jacket and began to put it on.

Vegeta was on him in an instant, though, shoving him back down into the couch, “Sit down!”

“Make up your damn mind,” Trunks challenged, but only with the seriousness of his eyes. Sure, he worked out, but he didn’t know the first thing about fighting. He’d never bothered to learn, and he wasn’t about to go up in a fight against his father.

Vegeta scowled down at him, unsure of what to say, but knowing he needed to do something about the situation. Finally, he came out with, “You’re grounded.”

“You can’t ground me!”

“I just did.”

Trunks blew up, teenager-style, and stood up as he began yelling at him, “It’s not about the money is it?! It’s like some sort of warped power trip with you! Since when do you even care about what I do, anyways?! You’ve never said more than ten words to me unless we’re fighting!”

Vegeta stared him down. Sure, Trunks is a little bit taller than him, but the height difference meant nothing. Neither of them are particularly daunting when it comes to their size, but Vegeta’s icy glare could stop a killer in their tracks, and it definitely made Trunks hesitate, but the young man still proceeded, taking his chances.

“And what the hell was up with the damn cake?! It’s like you suddenly realized you’re my dad now that I’m growing up and you’re trying to make up for lost times or something! You’re choosing _now_ to try to step in and be a parent?! Or maybe you’re just now realizing you can’t go through life being a dick to everyone you meet and then expect them to actually try to have a relationship with you! Or maybe you’re so used to having one-night stands that you gave up on having _any type of relationship_ at all and now you’re realizing that’s not how life works and so you’re trying to _force_ a relationship on the only person you can- _me!_ Well it’s not going to work! And the reason no one wants to date you for longer than a casual fling is _because_ _you’re ALWAYS a fucking DICK!_ ”

Vegeta grabbed him by the shirt and brought him down to eye-level. Trunks’ breath hitched at the quickness of it all. Vegeta’s voice was surprisingly quiet, but still deep and alarming, He told him, “You will _not_ talk to me like that, boy. If you don’t want to live here, there’s the door. But you and I both know that I’m around _twice_ as much as your mother, and I’m at least available enough to you to _have_ these little chats. You’re not much of a conversationalist yourself. Are you? You have no idea why I am the way that I am. You have _no idea_ what _my_ life was like at your age, _younger even!_ And I promised your mother you never would. Luckily for you, even without _me_ she’s the richest there is, and you’ll _never have to_ _learn how to be an asshole_ and I am grateful for it. Even if you aren’t. As far as everything else is concerned, I don’t tell you what you don’t need to know. It’s none of your damn business. If you don’t like it, you can leave. Just don’t fucking come back if you do. Save us both the trouble.” At that he let him go. That’s not at all what he should have told him, that’s not even what he _wanted_ to tell him, or even how he _felt_ , not really, but he was never good at these types of things.

“Real reassuring,” Trunks nodded and frowned, “Great parenting. I feel really wanted. No wonder Mom keeps Bra with her all the time.”

That remark pissed him off even more, but Vegeta held onto his resolve, unable to think of anything else to say that would be helpful. Trunks _did_ look hurt, he had to admit, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. Especially not after a comment like that.

Trunks was still staring him down with those beautiful, crystalline eyes he inherited from his mother, just like his mother would do, but then he looked away, sneered, and straightened out his jacket, just like his father, before he grabbed his phone and his keys from off of the coffee table.

Vegeta snatched his keys from him quicker than he could see it coming and he turned from Trunks, stepping away with more self-control than he would have had in his younger years. He couldn’t let him leave. Not after a fight like that. He might actually never come back. Vegeta didn’t want that.

Trunks gave his father a look of pure shock. “What are you doing?!”

“I told you,” Vegeta answered, rattling his keys back at him, “You’re grounded.”

“You can’t take the keys to my car!”

“I already did.”

“ _Mom_ bought me that car! It’s _my_ car!”

“My house, my rules.”

“ _Apartment_!” Trunks argued, “And by the way- there was an eviction notice on the door when I got here! It’s on your nightstand! You’re doing such a _great job_ keeping a roof over my head!”

 _‘Fuck!!’_ Vegeta’s mind screamed. He tried to best to hide his reaction to that as he walked to the kitchen, still clutching his son’s keys. He bit his lip in frustration at that news and then ground his teeth together, so he didn’t start cursing up a storm.

Trunks was on a roll, though, and he continued to hammer down on him from his place in the living room. “How many times have we moved, now?! I don’t know what happened to you as a kid to make you such an incompetent asshole, but it’s _not my fault_! I didn’t ask to be born into your dysfunctional excuse for a marriage to cover up that you’re fucking gay so stop taking your problems out on me!”

Vegeta scoffed loudly but didn’t bother with a retort. He just stood in the kitchen by the fridge and leaned up against the wall for some physical support so he could assess that information in at least a little bit of solitude until he figured out his next move. He never meant for Trunks to see an eviction notice. He never meant for him to find out he’d lost his job again. He could still make it right, couldn’t he? They might not have to move. Maybe.

Trunks was still yelling, “And don’t bother pretending like that’s not true! Why did you even bother getting with Mom to begin with?! I don’t get it! And I’ve never seen you with another woman since and they’re always all over you whenever you go out! I _know_ you could get married again if you wanted to! Why don’t you suck it up and marry rich again?! Man or woman I don’t care! I hate seeing you live like this! Damn it! Why do you have to be so difficult?! Why don’t you just ask Mom for help! You do this every time! It’s always either feast or famine with you! Six months out of the year we’re doing great, then the next six months we’re struggling to get by! I’m going to tell her you need some money! Or maybe you should just go over there and talk to her! Don’t you want to see Bra?! She asks about you all the time! I don’t want to move! I only have one more year of high school! I don’t want to be rezoned _again_! _It’s my senior year!_ Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut while you’re on the job and _make it work!_ Mom says you’re one of the best out there at what you do- WHY CAN’T YOU FUCKING PROVE IT!” The door to his bedroom slammed shut behind him.

His voice had been trailing off for that last part but Vegeta heard him loud and clear. After a moment of contemplation, he set his son’s keys down on the kitchen table as he took the opportunity of Trunks shutting himself off in his room to head to his own room and do the same. He closed and locked the door behind him, and then tried his best to reassess the situation while his son’s words echoed in his mind.

He found the eviction notice. Thirty days. That’s all he had to come up with two months’ rent. It wasn’t going to happen.

He could punch something he was so fucking pissed, but he’s calmed down a lot over the years, so he resisted the urge. Instead, he plugged his phone up, set his wallet down on the table and then collapsed onto his bed, clenching his fists in anger, but releasing them after a moment. He heaved out a great sigh and tried his damnedest to just fall asleep and forget about everything. Not a healthy resolution, he was aware, but he didn’t have anything else going on so what the hell.

He managed to pass out for a little while, that is, until his phone went off a few hours later.

He lifted his head and glanced over at it, unfocused eyes staring at the number. It looked kind of familiar, but that could be his mind playing tricks on him. He was feeling out of it. How long did he sleep? He noticed the time as his phone was still ringing persistently. 9:17pm.

“Hello?” He answered groggily. Hopefully this wasn’t Trunks calling because he got in trouble. No one calls him at night. Unless…

“Hey, Vegeta! It’s Goku. Did you forget we were meeting tonight?”

 _‘FUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK!’_ “No!” He cried, sitting up immediately, now completely awake. “I’m running a little late, that’s all,” he lied smoothly.

“Okay!” Goku answered, his mood not dulled in the least, “So I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes, yes, I’m on the way,” Vegeta replied, then hung up as quickly as he could.

He went for his stash of money, grabbed a few more hundreds and a couple twenties out of it, and then grabbed his wallet and headed out of his room as quickly as he could. Trunks was sitting on the couch again when Vegeta grabbed his keys off the kitchen table and headed for the front door. His son was watching him warily.

“Where are you going?” Trunks asked.

Vegeta answered, noncommittally, “I am meeting someone about something.”

“Yeah, right,” Trunks shook his head, and went back to flipping channels.

He didn’t believe him. Why should he? Vegeta looked over at him and frowned. At least he’s still here. Maybe he just doesn’t know that his keys are on the table. He wasn’t about to tell him.

“I’ll be back, soon,” Vegeta tried to reassure him, though he didn’t know why he bothered.

“Whatever,” was all his son had to say as Vegeta walked out the door.


	3. 3

3

It didn’t take Vegeta long to spot him, even considering how busy this place is. Kakarot was sitting at the bar with a beer in his hand, taking a drink, and watching the crowd. Vegeta couldn’t deny that he looks _good_ \- even better than he remembered- healthy, youthful, strong, handsome, confident, and he seemed perfectly at ease. He wasn’t looking at his phone or bothering to act busy and he wasn’t trying to get anyone’s attention or bring attention to himself.

Vegeta studied him for a moment, approaching slowly, but as he drew nearer, he realized how ridiculous he felt. He was embarrassed for the reason they were even meeting in the first place. He came out here to see the man so that he could pay him back for an unasked-for favor. Under any _other_ circumstances, if he spotted him out of a crowd, which he most certainly _would_ , he’d at least _attempt_ to hit on him, but the circumstances weren’t in any way appropriate for that _now._

No, he felt strange and out of sorts about this whole thing. Even something about _him_ made him feel strange, and he didn’t like it. Everything about this is completely out of his comfort zone and Vegeta had no intention of trying to make something more of this debacle.

Well, at least he’ll never see him again after this anyways.

Besides, the man humiliated him the first time they met the moment he laid him out on the concrete of the grocery store parking lot like it was nothing, and to make matters worse, he owes him money. His pride would be damned if he tried to move this acquaintanceship on to anything else for the sheer and simple fact that his ego couldn’t stand the thought.

Go over there, pay him back, get out of there, and then never see him again. That’s the plan.

Vegeta takes a seat next to him on the opposite side of the way that Kakarot is facing and orders a beer quickly from the bartender.

At the sound of his voice, Kakarot perks up, and he turns and smiles at him. Vegeta tried to ignore his gaze but he knew that he couldn’t, after all, he did come here to meet him, so he turned to him when he heard the man speak and tried not to stare.

“Hey!” Goku was saying, smiling, “I’m glad you could make it!”

Vegeta didn’t return his smile, instead he greeted him with a stern, somewhat annoyed gaze, but as he looked at him closer, and studied his face, he found that he enjoyed his smile more than he thought he should.

Goku said, chuckling, “I was beginning to give up on you!”

 _‘It’s forty-five minutes after the time we agreed to meet,’_ Vegeta thought, glaring at him, _‘I would have given up by the time you_ called _me, you fucking… enigma…’_ He stated, flatly, “Well, here I am.” He looked away as his beer was brought to him and instead focused on it as he savored the first sip.

“I kept having to tell people I was meeting someone so they wouldn’t sit there, I think some of them thought I was lying!” Goku grinned.

Vegeta didn’t respond.

Goku asked him, “So, how are you?” and his attention was now fully on him.

Vegeta looked at him again, lifting a brow in doubt of his sincerity and suspicion of his integrity. No one is that nice _all_ the time. Vegeta told him, “We’re here to settle my debt, aren’t we?” He immediately got out his wallet and handed him two hundred dollars.

Goku looked down at the money for a second, taking it, before he told him, “Thanks, but… This is too much.”

“Just fucking take it,” Vegeta growled, practically downing the rest of his beer in one go. He couldn’t handle this. He felt like a loser and sitting next to this man was making his skin crawl. The way his eyes were on him was making his heart race.

Goku looked surprised, and his gaze wouldn’t quit. Vegeta, again, tried to ignore him, but Kakarot didn’t seem to have any qualms with showing such blatant and unwarranted attention.

After ordering another beer, Vegeta turned to him and remarked sharply, “You’re staring at me.”

“Am I?” He replied.

“Yes, you are,” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh,” Goku mused, “Sorry,” and he made a strange face. Vegeta could only describe the look on his face as a pout, but that didn’t quite do it justice.

After trying to decipher what that look meant for two seconds too long, Vegeta rolled his eyes, shook his head, and looked away from him.

“Are you doing okay?” Goku asked him, his voice soft but still easily audible even over the noise of the bar.

“Perfect,” Vegeta replied, going through his wallet once more. He took his drink when the bartender came back and handed him a twenty. Then he got up, stared at Goku’s handsome face one last time, and walked away, going deep into the crowd to finish his beer before leaving altogether.

He knew Goku was watching him, probably judging him, but he didn’t care. He’ll never see him again anyways. Good riddance, he hates the way the man makes him feel.

Luckily for him, it didn’t take him long to find someone else to distract himself with at the next bar over and Kakarot was all but completely forgotten by the end of the night.

A month later and Vegeta had managed to land the job from his second interview, and so he’d been working for the last two weeks. He had scored some cash by winning a few fights during fight nights in between then and now, but that was mostly just running money; going out to eat, gas, his gym membership, etc. The contents of their fridge from his last shopping trip diminished fast and it was back to an empty fridge for them as usual. His eating out habit wasn’t going anywhere, and luckily, Trunks ate out a lot himself, because Vegeta sure as hell wasn’t much of a cook, and he certainly wasn’t going to go back to that marketplace. Closest one to him or not. It wasn’t safe there anymore, not since a certain someone had made a fool of him. Two someone’s, actually.

He got his first paycheck just in time to cover the costs of moving and the down payment on his new apartment. He rented a truck and moved their things by himself. It was a good workout if nothing else. Trunks was off with his mother doing whatever she decided to do with him and Bra that weekend and he, of course, didn’t bother to tell her that they were moving, or when. He was sure Trunks did though, since she had tried to call him and left him a long message about offering her help and why can’t he be more responsible, he should come see Bra, blah blah blah. He never contacted her back.

It didn’t matter, anyways. He wasn’t going to take her help and it was too late to try to make plans to see Bra this week. Besides, he’ll be seeing his daughter soon enough for Halloween, and Trunks is pissed at him enough as it is. His son’s outbursts are about all the emotional turmoil he could handle. Not that he isn’t equally frustrated with him, but what did that ever help? Besides, the “poor” kid ended up having to be rezoned, after all. He’ll be starting at his new school the coming Monday, and needless to say, he’s not happy about it.

Vegeta hated it for his son. He has a car, so he should be allowed to go to whatever school he wanted if he could get himself there. Technically he only lives with him part time, but he’s there more than that, and Bulma insisted they use Vegeta’s address for Trunks’ school things, something about keeping more mail from being delivered to Capsule Corp. Vegeta didn’t see her point, but it didn’t matter what he thought, she always gets what she wants.

All he has to do is keep it together for one more year. He can do that. Whether he actually decides to disappear entirely from his family’s life or not, at least Bra, in living with Bulma, will never have to deal with the unstable currents of her father’s reckless lifestyle.

When Trunks arrived at the new place Sunday night, he remarked on the nicety of the apartment, to which Vegeta merely grunted. Every apartment in the downtown area was nice, and therefore expensive, and Vegeta refused to move out of the city. City life was all he’d ever known.

That was about all his son said to him, though. Nothing about his weekend, nothing about his new school tomorrow, nothing about his mother or his sister. Nothing about himself. The only other thing he asked was which room is his, and after being pointed in the right direction, he went straight to it, closing and locking the door behind him. Vegeta didn’t even bother trying to get anything more out of him.

Another month went by and Vegeta was, yet again, thoroughly bored at his new job and trying his best to maintain a somewhat decent attitude at work. There just wasn’t enough going on to keep his interests. Not even the office personnel offered anything worth his time, and he wasn’t one for fucking his coworkers anyways. Still, it was tedious, annoying, pushing-papers type of work, and he felt less stimulated here than at several of the other offices he’s worked at, in spite of the workload put on him that many of the others deemed to be overwhelming.

Vegeta tackled the assignments and ignored their complaints and comments. He ignored them almost entirely, really, either that or he gave them a menacing glare if they came too close or spent too long explaining something. It was for the best. Of course, there were rumors going around that he was a bit of a stiff, and that his attitude bordered on condescending. He couldn’t help but chuckle with an arrogant air of contempt over their collective hypersensitivity. He hasn’t even been _trying_ to upset anyone.

He supposed he’d have to go to one of their holiday parties and at least attempt to smile when someone told a joke. One such party was coming up soon and he wasn’t looking forward to it, but perhaps it would at least provide him an opportunity to continue to keep his job.

He hated the holidays, and they were coming up much too fast. He hated the lights and the music and the decorations and the whole gift-buying, consumerism driven vibe. He liked the weather okay, something about the crisp smell and feel of the cold air was nice, but that was about it. Everything else was too fake to be something he could actually get into, even when he was with Bulma. He just couldn’t understand how one half of the city was walking around with joyous attitudes of thanksgiving and gratitude and meaningless spending, while they ignored the other half, which gave off a stale but palpable sense of dismay, depression, and desperation.

Vegeta supposed he was more familiar with the bah humbug attitude of the “Scrooge’s” than he was with the wistful happiness of the “Who’s in Whoville”, and the holidays only served to remind him of that.

He chalked it up to having had a bad childhood, the childhood he never talked about. He was over all of that, though, or so he told himself. He got over it the moment he realized he wasn’t considered a child by the state anymore, and there would be no more supplications on his behalf for welfare, as trite as those offers had been. He got over it the moment he realized he had the opportunity to rescue _himself_ from his own poor upbringing, or lack thereof- the same moment when he realized that no one _else_ was going to save him. He figured, back then, that he was limited only by his own potential, and back then, he’d seen his potential as something limitless.

He might have gotten over his tragic upbringing for the most part, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still plagued by it daily. Nightly.

Thinking back on it, though, he really can’t be too angry with himself. He did the best with what he was given and then some. Although, he has to admit, he isn’t his own best friend, never has been, and his dueling pride and self-deprecation aren’t the stuff dreams are made of. Still, he believes that he’s made the right choices overall, even if he’s made some bad ones, too.

He’d been thinking back on things a lot recently. Back on when he’d first met Bulma, fresh out of college when he first moved to this _then_ new city to start over. When he was still young and stupid enough to think he could be anything, and that nothing could tie him down now that he was no longer in the slums and no one knew who he was. It didn’t take him long to realize that he couldn’t run from a past of crime and bad habits, though. His enemies would eventually find him, and even when in the arms of a rich, powerful, and gorgeously mesmerizing young heiress like her, he still wasn’t safe from his past. Neither was she.

He’d told himself then that he only did the fighting thing on the side to make the money to pay for college, and that one day he would quit, but he wound up never giving it up. He took every chance he got to test his strength, and he’d flex his wins, only adding fuel to that raging fire of violence inside of him. Once he made a name for himself, he found that he needed to keep up his hard earned reputation, because he wasn’t the only one with something to prove, and while he’d moved away from his home town, his enemies were vast and resourceful, creeping from city to city, coming up in unexpected places.

He’d foolishly thought that marriage to her would solve all of his problems. He figured that, at her insistence, (and as an affront to the people in her circle who didn’t like him, which was most of them,) getting married to her was the best decision. It was either marry her, sealing the deal on his hopes and dreams for life, or keep playing games, taking chances, and risking it all, hoping that one day he might get to walk away from his past on his own terms. He seriously doubted that would ever happen, so he chose marriage.

It didn’t change him or his circumstances like he’d hoped it might, and what’s worse, in the end, it didn’t stop him from trying to get the best of both worlds, either. He succeeded for a time, but it didn’t last for long. It lasted far longer than many thought it would, but he was young and reckless and arrogant, and risk and temptation were both deeply embedded into his idea of a good time, and so their relationship ended a lot sooner than it should have. It could have been a forever thing, and he could have kept the good thing he’d come upon, if only he’d done right by her.

He blames himself, although a part of him always believed that he didn’t deserve her. Even with her abounding love for him and her willingness to try and understand him, he couldn’t open up to her. Even with all that they’d been through together and all that he’d gained just from knowing her, he just couldn’t give himself to her like that.

Besides, women are nice, but there’s something about the strength of a man, the scent of a man, the allure of a man; something about the firmness in a man’s touch versus the dainty caress of a woman; something about the sureness of a man’s intent as oppose to the playful lure of a woman. And yes, he got off on the sodomy. He knew it wasn’t _normal_ , especially in the eyes of the socialites, but he’d never cared about “normal” and he’d never intended to live by someone else’s standards. Once he realized he couldn’t pretend to be straight anymore, or bisexual even, he decided he wouldn’t waste his time with it ever again.

Now, some twenty years later, he’s realized that- man or woman- he simply can’t open up to anyone. At all. He’ll _never_ be able to do such a thing, and while that fact is not something that bothers him, per se, it’s become the center of every problem that he’s been encountering as of late and he can’t, for the life of him, understand why this particular flaw is such a big damn deal. He never thought that the one small fraction of personality that he’s missing would be such _a_ _huge_ _problem_ for his livelihood, but for some stupid, awful reason, it has become the bane of his very existence.

Sure, he knew that’s what ended his relationship with Bulma, and his relationship with his more recent, though less important ex, Darien, who simply couldn’t put up with Vegeta’s much-too-reserved emotional nature, but he knows himself too well to deny that the chance of him coming around to be more _personably expressive_ just wasn’t going to happen.

It’s not that he _won’t_ , it’s that he _can’t_ give up the gruff side of himself. It’s what has kept him alive for so many years. He needs his dark side to feel normal. He needs it to keep him on his toes.

He’s needed it to protect Bulma and Trunks and Bra countless times in the past, from both himself and external danger. He still needs it now, even if it’s mostly for his own personal benefit of keeping others at a distance.

He can’t let it go, and he doesn’t intend to, in any case. If being impartial, sarcastic, and callous, i.e. _realistic, (_ at least from his point of view) makes him an asshole unworthy of discussion for advancement consideration, and an intolerable romantic partner, then so be it. Rarely is anything, or anyone, worth his damn time anyways.

His phone buzzed on the table beside him and he glanced over at the time. Finally, five o’clock, he could get the hell out of here. He wasted no time.

Walking through the front door of his apartment he noticed Trunks was home and he was talking on the phone with someone while going through some papers from his bookbag. The person on the other line was probably some girl he was asking on a date or something. Vegeta didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He was just happy his son was in a good mood.

Trunks stopped what he was doing, told the person on the phone to hang on, and then asked Vegeta, “Hey! I’m gonna have a friend over, is that cool?”

Vegeta gave him an odd look. He was asking for permission to bring someone over, really?

Trunks persisted, explaining, “He started at the new school just before I did, we’ve been talking about hanging out. He said his dad said it’s okay for him to come over if mine said so, too…”

 _‘Oh… he needs my permission…?’_ Vegeta thought. At least _some_ dads get a little respect. He nodded, still feeling a little weird about the fact that he’d even asked.

“Okay, but…” Trunks hesitated. Vegeta was already walking away, but he stopped and turned, giving him another odd stare as his son added, “His dad wants to meet you first. Something about knowing the family and where his son is gonna be hanging out…”

“Why?” Vegeta wondered.

Trunks shrugged, “Safety?”

Again, Vegeta didn’t understand. This kid’s family must not be from the city. “Whatever,” Vegeta waved him off.

Trunks immediately went back to talking on the phone, telling his friend to come on over.

Vegeta headed to his bedroom and tried not to think about the fact that he was going to have to pretend to play “house” when these people come over. Ridiculous. It’s not like he’s going to stick around while the two boys played video games or whatever the hell it was that they intend to do. He found it bizarre, but he’d go along with it if it meant that Trunks was going to make a new friend over it. The boy needs more guy friends, doesn’t he? Especially since he’s at a new school. At least he’s taking a break from constantly chasing girls around all the damn time. That he knows of, anyways.

He took his jacket off, but didn’t bother changing out of his business clothes, and then headed to the kitchen, bypassing his son in the dining room on the way there. He opened the fridge and immediately questioned why he still does that when he knows there’s no food in there.

Damn it.

“Hey,” Trunks hollered at him from the dining room, “I think you’ll like him, Dad. He studies martial arts with his father, and he says he’s is a _really_ good fighter.”

 _‘Yeah, right,’_ Vegeta snorted quietly, still staring into the empty fridge.

Trunks came into the kitchen as he went on chattering, “They just moved here a couple months ago. They’re not from the city-”

 _‘I knew it,’_ Vegeta’s mind replied, but he only flicked his eyes over to his son for a second to let him know he was listening.

“Actually, he’s new to public schools. He’s been homeschooled for a lot of his life. I was gonna show him my gaming system. He says he doesn’t have one of his own.”

 _‘Why are you telling me all of this?’_ Vegeta silently implored.

“Anyways, I was wondering if maybe we could order some pizza for dinner, since we don’t have anything here and we’re having company…”

Vegeta shuts the fridge. Trunks has a point. The least he could do was order food for him and his friend. “Sure,” he says and pulls out his phone to follow through.

“Sweet! They should be here pretty soon!” Trunks rattled on, “I’m gonna go grab my games.”

Vegeta wondered why his son was so excited, but, again, he figured it wasn’t a bad thing, and so he let it be. He ordered the pizza, three actually, and some extra things like cheese sticks, and sodas, since he was pretty sure the boys would eat it all, and there’s nothing to drink in the house, anyways. After that he got out his computer, turned it on, and sat on one of the chairs in their living room. At least this way he could try to kill some time before this mystery father/son duo showed up.

Once the kid’s dad leaves, he can go out himself. He needed some time to himself. He definitely wasn’t planning on hanging out at home while the two of them scream at the TV for six hours straight. Or however long this kid is allowed to stay over.

Wait. Is he supposed to set a boundary on that?

Vegeta shook it off. He couldn’t remember the last time Trunks had hung out with a _guy_ friend at his house. He wasn’t sure how that was supposed to go, but he certainly wasn’t going to tell him his friend had to leave at any certain time when Trunks doesn’t even follow his rules about girls coming over. He decided not to try to overthink it for once and focused on going to work on his computer once it finished booting up.

He’d just begun doing some light research on the newest project he’d undertaken at work, grumbling to himself as he typed up some notes, when Trunks came back into the room about five minutes later.

“Are you gonna hang out with us?” his son asked.

Without even looking at him, Vegeta answered, “No.”

Trunks started hooking up the gaming system into the TV in the living room and didn’t ask him anything else. Vegeta glanced at him, not surprised by his silence. His son knew him well enough to know his plans aren’t to stick around. He went back to what he was doing.

Another five minutes goes by and a knock came at the door. Trunks ran down the hall to answer it. “Hey!” He cried as he opened it up.

Vegeta smirked, still confused by his excitement, but amused all the same. He didn’t stop typing out his notes.

“Hey, Trunks!” another young man said, equally as eager as his son.

“Come on in, you guys!” Trunks offered.

Vegeta sighed as he remembered he was supposed to be meeting this kid’s father, so he set his computer aside and stood up, straightening out his shirt as he listened to the conversation still going on at the front door.

Vegeta could hear the young man saying, “Dad, this is Trunks. Trunks, this is my Dad, Goku.”

At that name Vegeta felt his entire body stiffen. At first, for a split second, he’d hoped it was another “Goku”, but his dreams were dashed just as quickly as he heard him speak.

“Nice to meet you, Trunks!”

Vegeta _knows_ that voice, and it was undeniable that it’s the same man. He immediately looked around for a way to escape. There was nowhere to go, except maybe out a window, but they’re on the second floor of the building… He hasn’t been _that_ desperate in a long time.

“You, too!” Trunks was telling Goku cheerfully, “Come on in, my Dad’s in the living room.”

It was too late for Vegeta to run and there was nowhere for him to hide. The footsteps were already coming closer through the short hall.

When Trunks, _Kakarot_ , and Goten rounded the corner, Vegeta stood as still as stone, completely off guard, and he stared at the man, trying to maintain a blank expression, although he was certain he looked every bit as petrified as he felt.

Why did it have to be _him_?!

Trunks was saying, “Dad, this is Goten, my friend from school, and this is his dad, Goku.”

Goku’s eyes lit up and he smiled at him, “Hey, Vegeta!”

Trunks’ face dropped and his gaze went from Goku and then back to him. He gave his dad a suspicious glare and blurted out, “You two _know_ each other?! I mean,” he reworded his question, “You’ve met _before_?!”

Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, knowing what Trunks was thinking, but Kakarot was already on it, unaware of the implication of Trunks’ question.

The man explained, “We just met a couple months ago, at the grocery store. Actually, Vegeta-”

“Kakarot!” Vegeta suddenly barked, interrupting him. “What are the odds?” He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want him to explain any more. He’d rather his son think they’d fucked than know that he’d paid for his groceries because Trunks had stolen his credit cards. That might not make much sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to him.

Trunks didn’t look convinced, but he, likewise, didn’t seem to want to delve any deeper into the situation. He was looking Goku over, though, studying him, no doubt trying to gauge if he was even interested in men, which, to be perfectly blunt, wasn’t clear. The man is damn near completely unreadable.

Goten, on the other hand, seemed intrigued, and he wondered, looking at his dad, “How does he know your real name?”

Goku chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he told his son, “I told it to him. Well, I told him Goku, too, but he’s never once called me that.” His gaze turned to Vegeta and he smiled in a charming way. The same charming way that makes Vegeta unbearably uncomfortable.

Suddenly feeling more mobile, or at least, mobile enough to attempt to stop this conversation, Vegeta came forward and explained, trying to clear the air, at least for his son’s knowledge, and glaring at Goku as he said, “We’ve only ever _talked_ twice.”

“We’ve talked _four_ times if you count over the phone,” Goku corrected.

Vegeta argued, “Why would I call you by a nickname if _Kakarot_ is your real name?!”

The man laughed, and countered, “I never said I minded, Vegeta.”

Vegeta’s face was now warm with embarrassment and he was certain it was obvious.

A knock came to the front door again. Thank heavens.

“I’ll get it,” Vegeta said, and then he brushed past his son’s guests and headed for the door. He opened it to the pizza man, and then closed it behind him to finish out their transaction and at least _try_ to put some space between himself and Kakarot, even if it was just for a minute.

His hand was shaking as he wrote out a tip and signed the credit card slip. His whole body was quaking as he took the pizzas and the drinks from the young man. Once the boy was out of sight, Vegeta tried to figure out how he was going to handle going back inside. He took a deep breath and just went for it.

When he opened his front door this time, Trunks was already showing Goten and Goku around. Vegeta was mortified by the very idea of this man being in his apartment, but he couldn’t help but stare at him as he walked through it. He had a small smile on his face as he was looking around. Vegeta detested it.

He quickly set everything down on the kitchen table and tried to think of _any_ excuse to cut this meeting short. _Any_ excuse to have to leave. _Something_.

Goku, noticing Vegeta had come back inside, glanced over at him while Trunks was showing them around, and he smiled at him again.

Vegeta tried to pretend like he wasn’t looking at him when he did it and he refused to smile back, or even acknowledge him. Instead he headed into the kitchen to get out from under his gaze and started grabbing some plates and paper towels for Trunks and Goten, hands still shaking for some damn reason.

When he turned around to leave the kitchen Goku was in the doorway of it, blocking him slightly. It startled him, but he resisted the urge to jump, and instead took a second to look him over. The man’s hair was messy, as usual, and his eyes were warm and inviting. He was dressed simply enough, clearly not one for style, but it was the outline of him that had Vegeta’s knees weak. He was tall and well built, with even proportions and a stature that screamed confidence. Vegeta could tell even without seeing any details beneath his jacket, that he was definitely in good shape. His jeans hugged him well and his hands were a good size, like he could palm a basketball, or other things…

“You have a nice place,” Goku told him.

Vegeta didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. He stopped his eyes from wandering over him and just walked forward. Goku moved out of the way so he could go past him. He watched him on the way, though. Vegeta disregarded his gaze, disregarded him, and set the items he’d grabbed down onto the table by the pizza boxes.

Goku said, his voice now quieter, as he was coming closer up behind him, “Hey, can I clear the air on something…?”

Vegeta turned and eyed him, not knowing what to expect, but he was more than aware that he was standing awfully close.

Goku glanced over to the hall before he bent in and whispered, “I didn’t know I was coming to _your_ place…”

Vegeta smirked, sensing some discomfort from him. “What’s the matter, Kakarot, aren’t you excited to see me?” 

Goku replied, leaning into the doorway, “I’m surprised, actually. The way you left the other night, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Vegeta remarked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest, “You don’t say?”

“Well, yeah,” Goku chuckled, “but what I mean is—” and he paused for a second as he looked Vegeta over. He pulled away from the wall and took another step forward as he asked, “You’re not mad that I’m here right?”

Vegeta moved away from him again. This time his hip knocked against the dining room table, but he placed a hand on it to still it’s wobbling and glared at him to continue as a cover up. He growled quietly, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Goku told him, smiling, “I didn’t know that _Trunks_ was Goten’s new friend…”

“Do you have a problem with my son?” Vegeta glared, offended, and not following.

“No!” the man exclaimed, and he laughed a little before he said, “Not at all!”

Quietly, Vegeta argued, “Then what the hell are you blabbering on about?!”

Goku smiled and, glancing over at the hall again, he leaned closer and said, “I guess you don’t remember yelling out Trunks’ name at the grocery store, huh? He stole your credit cards on his birthday, didn’t he?”

Vegeta’s jaw dropped a little at that, and he was mortified as much as he was astounded. He couldn’t _exactly_ recall saying his son’s name, but he didn’t doubt that he did.

Goku told him, “Man… Boys are tough to raise… Trust me, I know.”

“Hn…” was all Vegeta replied.

“Anyways,” Goku told him, now standing up straight, “I’m glad this happened. Goten and Trunks seem to get along great. He’s been really excited about coming over here.”

Vegeta refused to respond to that, and while he eyed him for another moment longer, he merely uncrossed his arms and turned back to his task of setting up dinner, feel minutely better now that the man had retracted a bit.

Goku was saying, his voice picking up in volume, “Trunks said you guys just moved here. Are you new to the city, too?”

“No,” Vegeta answered, but he was focusing solely on the food he’d bought as he was opening the pizza boxes and he hoped that Kakarot would take the hint and just leave.

He headed to the kitchen to grab some glasses for the drinks, when Goku asked, insistent on conversing, “Do you always dress like that?”

Vegeta turned to him at that random question. “Like _what_?” he wondered, immediately insulted by his harmless observation. _‘Damn it,’_ he thought, he’d actually been lured into this meaningless banter.

Goku shrugged, “Well, all three times we’ve met in person you’ve been dressed up. You must have a pretty good job. What do you do for a living?”

Vegeta wasn’t interested in telling him about his job. Or his life. Or talking about his clothes for that matter. He shook his head and asked, “What do _you_ do? Go around _helping_ people all day?”

“Kind of…” Goku grinned, then he looked down at food on the table, and then back up at Vegeta, and he said, changing the subject as well, “Did you get that for the boys? Here, let me split it with you.” He reached for his wallet, “How much was it?”

“Don’t,” Vegeta growled, putting his hand upon his to stop him. He glared up at the man, while Goku gave him a questioning stare.

Goten and Trunks were heard heading back into the kitchen, and Vegeta retracted his hand with a quickness as their conversation was, gratefully, halted.

“Dad,” Goten said in an animated fashion, “Trunks says Mr. Vegeta is a fighter, too. A really good one! You guys should spar, sometime! Can we watch?”

“Just _Vegeta_ ,” Vegeta corrected him, glancing at Goten, but his eyes fell back onto Goku at the reminder of the man’s skill and he wondered about the possibility of actually fighting him.

“You’re a fighter, huh?” Goku asked, and something new came into his eyes as he looked Vegeta over.

Vegeta smirked back at him, sensing the challenge in his gaze.

Interrupting the moment, Trunks remarked smartly, “Haven’t you guys _sparred_ already?”

Vegeta’s hypnotized stare broke away from Kakarot and he glared at his son. Trunks glared back.

“We haven’t,” Goku smiled down at Trunks, “But I’d be interested. What do you say, Vegeta?”

Vegeta lifted his chin and declared, “Another time. Maybe,” he had to pull his eyes away from the man. He managed. “Trunks, Goten, here’s some food for you two. Kakarot, I’m sure you have plans. I can show you out…” That was rude but he really felt like he had no choice. He had to get him out of his house.

“Okay,” Goku nodded, agreeing, “Goten, I’ll catch you later, yeah? You sure you don’t mind bringing him home, Trunks?”

“It’s no problem!” Trunks promised.

Vegeta was practically tapping his foot impatiently he was so ready to get this over with.

“Sounds good,” Goku was saying to his son, taking Vegeta’s hint and following him down the hall, “It was nice to meet you. You guys have fun.”

Vegeta lead Goku to the front door and opened it for him, stepping aside so he could leave.

Goku, not taking the hint, asked him, “Do you mind if we talk outside for a minute?”

 _‘Shit,’_ Vegeta thought. He should have known it wasn’t going to be so easy to get rid of him. He nodded, though, and followed him out the door, shutting it behind them, away from the prying eyes of their sons.

Goku was quick to tell him, “Thanks for letting Goten come over. He doesn’t really have a lot of friends. He’s a great kid, though, he shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Vegeta resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. This poor dope thinks he’s going to be _watching_ them, like a good father or something. He replied sarcastically with a grunt, “That’s nice.”

Goku didn’t seem to realize that Vegeta wasn’t interested in talking. In fact, he looked like he had something else he wanted to say and even in spite of not knowing how to proceed, and not getting any encouragement on Vegeta’s part of things, he still wasn’t giving up and walking away like Vegeta had hoped that he would.

Not liking this unexpected encounter with a man that he thought he’d never see again, Vegeta finally asked, trying to end this reunion, “Is there something else?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Goku nodded.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest impatiently. It was hard _not_ to look directly into his eyes and every time he did, he felt like he saw something new in them he hadn’t noticed before. He wondered when familiarity would set in and give him some relief.

Goku, who was usually smiling from what he knows of him, wasn’t smiling anymore as he said, “You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

Vegeta didn’t answer. He was too intrigued by him to say anything to that and he thought, _‘He’s perceptive when he wants to be, isn’t he?’_

Goku added, “Did you have plans? Or were you just… going out?”

“I have plans,” Vegeta lied, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Oh,” Goku shied a bit, but then opened back up, saying, “I was gonna ask if maybe you’d like to meet up sometime?”

 _‘What?’_ Vegeta wondered silently, _‘Why on Earth would you want to do that?’_ Still, he said nothing, but he was certain the look on his face portrayed his skepticism at the idea.

Goku laughed nervously, “I thought you might think that was a weird thing to ask. I almost didn’t, but I… Well, my wife… I mean, my ex… she’s…” he trailed off but then added, “I decided to finally move into the city to be closer to my eldest son. I thought it’d be good for Goten to get away, too. I figured that it was time for him to go to a real school. Homeschooling is not as simple as I’d thought…” he paused, lost in contemplation over something for a moment. He finally said, sighing a little, “Anyways, I guess I just thought that, since we’d met before and all, maybe you’d want to hang out?”

 _‘He’s probably lonely,’_ Vegeta concluded, reading between the lines, _‘Obviously_ very _lonely if he thinks hanging out with_ me _is a good idea.’_

Goku was saying, “We don’t really know each other, and you seemed really irritated the other day when we met up. Maybe you were just having a bad week, yeah? Moving can do that,” he smiled, “But, I think a spar sounds like a good idea, don’t you? It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good sparring partner.”

Vegeta smirked conceitedly at having the idea brought up again, “You sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah!” He answered with enthusiasm.

Vegeta mulled it over, then shrugged, and said, “Fine.”

Goku’s face lit up, “Really? That’d be awesome!”

“It might prove to be interesting, but beware, Kakarot, I’m not your average fighter.”

The other man grinned; excitement plastered all over his face. He told him, “Neither am I.”

Vegeta immediately regretted his decision as something inside of him started moving around in his chest and he began questioning his logic. He’d never intended on seeing this man again and yet here he is making plans with him on a whim. Why had he said _yes_? Was it because a spar sounded like a good idea to his sadistic brain? Or because he can’t deny that seeing him again would be exciting? Or was it to simply shut him up?

His mouth had gone dry as he tried to think of something to say. He couldn’t, no more than he could deny that he was looking forward to their plans, whether the only reason he’d agreed was because he wanted to get him out of his hair or not.

Was he actually going to follow through with meeting him again? Everything in his body is revolting at seeing him _right now_ , and they’re barely even _talking_. Well, _he_ ’ _s_ barely talking. He hardly _ever_ talks.

It’s a terrible idea, isn’t it? Not the spar… just… everything else. Kakarot just doesn’t know it yet. He’ll realize it soon enough. Once he spends more than two minutes with him. Forbid they actually spend some significant amount of time together and Kakarot realizes just how much of an asshole he really is. Trunks might lose a friend over it and Vegeta didn’t think his son would ever forgive him for something like that.

Goku interrupts his thoughts as he says, “Okay! Well, I won’t keep you.” He steps away, and then adds, “It was great to see you again. I’ll talk to you soon!” and with that he went down the stairs to the parking lot.

Vegeta watched him go and thought, _‘There must be something wrong with that man.’_ He headed back inside. The moment he came through the hall he noticed Trunks’ eyes heavy upon him even as he and Goten were sitting on the couch eating.

“What did you two talk about?” Trunks asked through a mouthful of pizza. The question had been delivered innocently enough, but Vegeta was used to the undertones in his son’s voice, they were the same as Bulma’s, and he knew that his son was suspicious of how, and how _well_ , he knows Kakarot.

“Parent stuff,” Vegeta answered and then he disappeared into his bedroom to change so that he could get the hell out of here. Once he was ready, which didn’t take long, he bypassed his son and Goten, grabbing his keys on the way, as he was saying, “Trunks, you know my rules.”

“Got it,” was all Trunks replied before Vegeta left, shutting the front door behind him.

As the weeks passed, Goku was true to his word, and he called Vegeta to set up a time for their spar, but unable to help himself, Vegeta ignored all of Goku’s calls. He’d marked his number down with his name, too, so he’d know when he was calling, and that way he could ignore him properly. 

He knew he was being rude, but it was better this way. Kakarot seemed like a well-meaning sort of person, but Vegeta is not, and he believed that giving into the temptation of spending any time with him couldn’t possibly be a good idea, especially if he gave in and hit on him like he really wanted to. The thought alone was enticing enough, and it didn’t need any encouragement.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about him, though. Thinking about pummeling him, or being pummeled _by_ him, in every sense of the word, but he brushed those deviant thoughts aside and held onto his resolve. It was difficult to do, though. Kakarot had a knack for calling at the worst times, like when he was busy having sex with some man he’d just met. Seeing his phone flashing Kakarot’s name from the corner of his eye really messed with him. Got him forgetting all about who was currently in bed with him. Got him thinking about what it might be like to be in bed with _him_. The thought was distracting, and it lasted much longer than the intimacy he’d shared with the now faceless one-night stand.

The worst part was that he actually felt bad about ignoring him for some odd reason. Maybe it was the sweetness in his voice over the voicemail that he’d left that Vegeta _definitely did not_ listen to 9 times before deleting. He ended up texting him back the next day to tell him that work had him swamped this week. Work had nothing to do with it, but Kakarot didn’t need to know that.

He didn’t know why he even bothered texting him back. The last thing he needs is that man calling or texting him all the damn time, but he didn’t want to shut him down outright. He couldn’t deny that a spar does sound like a damn good idea. It would only be a _friendly_ fight for once, and it would provide him with an opportunity to redeem himself after that blunder the first time they met, but he knew that it would be best for Trunks if he had nothing to do with Goten’s father.

His resolve was weakening though and after thinking about it some more, he knew that ignoring him forever really wasn’t an option. Goten has quickly become all but a permanent fixture in his home as of late, and that alone made Vegeta believe that he should at least _humor_ the man, even if it’s just one simple encounter with him.

All he wants is an innocent spar, right?

Still, the weeks passed and Kakarot sent several more texts, but Vegeta left them all on read. It wasn’t on purpose, _exactly_. One time he’d texted when Vegeta was helping Bulma take pictures of Bra in her Halloween costume for a school thing and Vegeta was already at his wits end and simply wasn’t in the mood to be bothered. Another time Vegeta had been running late to work, which _never happens_ , and he’d told himself he was going to say something back to him, at the very least it would be a decent distraction in the middle of his day, but that particular day had been super busy, and he forgot. By the time he remembered, he decided it was too late to even bother.

He knew deep down that something was holding him back from talking to the other man and that it wasn’t just the fact that he’s a prick, but he couldn’t exactly say what it was.

It was Saturday night, and Thanksgiving is only a couple of weeks away now, which meant Vegeta was finally a little more focused on other things. Luckily, Trunks has been in a rather good mood recently, which made Vegeta’s life that much easier on the home front. In fact, Trunks was currently heading out with Goten to meet some other friends for a Friendsgiving thing at one of their houses for the night. Vegeta decided to go out himself. He had a work-party-thing coming up at the end of the week and he was dreading it, but for tonight, he didn’t have plans, and he needed to get away for a little while.

Once the boys were gone, Vegeta headed to a nice restaurant and sat at the bar by himself with a book. At least he could look like he was content even if he really isn’t.

After about two drinks in, a young man came in and sat beside him.

“Fernet Branca please,” the man asked the bartender.

Vegeta couldn’t help but glance over at him. He was young and handsome, clearly well off by the way he dressed, probably educated, and a bit of a book worm if Vegeta had to guess by his glasses and his style of suit. He was somewhat familiar looking, too, although he couldn’t place from where. He glanced at his left hand. Married. And too young anyways. Vegeta went back to reading.

As the young man waited for his drink, he turned to survey his surroundings, and he couldn’t help but notice what Vegeta was reading. He commented, “That’s a good book. I’ve read it twice.”

Vegeta smirked, taking the bait, “Are you interested in theology in general or the idea that there may be proof behind the myths and legends of ancient history?”

The young man smiled. His eyes seemed to home in on Vegeta in a way that said he was happy to have gotten such a response, and he answered, “Well, I usually stick to more scientific findings, but I think that the evidential historic relationship between God and man is interesting. The fact that we don’t have all the answers, even with our current technological means, and that there are many megaliths that point to _something_ bigger than us, and unknown to us, whether religiously based or not, is fascinating to me.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but pay him a little bit more attention. He is intelligent, as he’d figured. He found it refreshing. He teased, “Philosophers and scientists don’t generally run in the same circles much less assume the same space in one mind.”

“Thank goodness that some of them do, otherwise I might not have a job,” he joked.

“So, which one are you? Scientist or Philosopher?”

“Ah,” his smile widened, and he nodded, “Scientist.”

He looked so familiar that Vegeta was intrigued by him, but he couldn’t pinpoint where he knew him from. Still, he asked, trying to figure it out, “Where do you work?” _‘Don’t say Capsule Corp.’_

“At one of the local colleges,” he answered simply enough, “I’m a Science Professor, but I’ve recently started doing work part time at Capsule Corp. for the owner, Bulma Briefs.”

 _‘Of course,’_ Vegeta thought, but then he remarked, “You’re young to be so accomplished. I’m sure Ms. Briefs sees a lot of potential in you.”

“Thank you,” he told him, and Vegeta sensed his sincerity something fierce, but he was still trying to figure out why he felt like he knew him. The young man was saying, “I can’t take all the credit, though. My Mom was really hard on me as a kid. She wanted me to be…” he looked away, “Well, she wanted more for me…”

 _‘Your father must not have been around… Either that or he was a piece of shit,’_ Vegeta deduced intuitively, but he didn’t push that subject, and he continued to study him curiously. Putting his book down, he asked, “How did you meet Ms. Briefs?”

The bartender brought the young man his drink and he thanked him and paid. He turned to Vegeta and told him, “Chance.”

“Hn,” Vegeta replied, “Chance? Is that a scientific term? It’s not a philosophical one.”

The young man laughed, and admitted, “You’re right. Philosophers don’t believe in such things, do they? Chance is still how I would describe it. Or I suppose you could call it luck, ‘when preparedness meets opportunity’, as they say. And I _do_ consider myself lucky, really.”

His phone rang. He excused himself to answer it. “Hey, Dad,” he was saying.

The conversation immediately made Vegeta uneasy. For multiple reasons.

“No, they’re not coming,” the man was saying to the person on the phone, “Yes. You almost here? Great. I’m at the bar. Alright. Bye.”

Vegeta wondered, as he listened in on the one-sided conversation, if this man’s dad really is the person that he assumed he is, but he’d opened his book again as to not seem like he was eavesdropping. Still, he glanced over at the young man, again, and Vegeta determined he wasn’t going to waste his time with diving any deeper into a stranger’s life.

Gohan noticed his book reopened, took the hint, and didn’t try to pursue more conversation with him. Vegeta wished he weren’t such a dick all the time, but then again, striking up another conversation with this young man wasn’t going to do him any good. If anything, shutting it down now would only save him some trouble.

A few minutes later Vegeta heard an unmistakably familiar voice call out an unfamiliar name.

“Gohan!”

Vegeta blinked and stared at the page he was turned to, nervous to look up as he felt his breath hitch inside of his chest. He thought to himself, _‘It_ can’t _be.’_

The young man next to him turned and stood up, “Hey, Dad!”

Vegeta looked up and followed Gohan’s line of sight.

_‘Holy shit. Kakarot…’_

Goku hugged his son and immediately saw Vegeta sitting there behind him as he looked over his son’s shoulder.

Vegeta couldn’t even pretend not to have seen him and they locked eyes instantly.

Goku smiled at him, but he looked a little less cheery than normal. When Gohan pulled away, Goku was still staring at Vegeta, and he said, “Hey,” meekly, acknowledging him politely, and forgoing his meeting with his son for the moment.

Gohan turned around, wondering who he was talking to. Upon putting two and two together, what with Vegeta’s eyes locked onto his father’s, he asked, “You two know each other?”

“Sort of,” Goku nodded.

“Not really,” Vegeta shook his head.

Vegeta’s stomach churned with unease at Goku’s appearance. Gohan had reminded him of _him_. How could he not have realized it before?! And he wondered, again, if his brief assessment of Kakarot from his conversation with Gohan had been accurate in any way. Kakarot certainly didn’t _seem_ like a poor father.

Goku explained to his son, “Goten is friends with Vegeta’s son, Trunks.”

“Trunks?” Gohan asked, surprised, “Trunks _Briefs_?” He turned to Vegeta, “ _You’re_ Vegeta Briefs? Bulma’s ex-husband?”

“Guilty,” Vegeta replied as casually as he could. He hadn’t expected for this young man to find out that he’d been baiting their initial conversation along, and he figured that Gohan would be upset, or put-off, or annoyed, or _something_ , anything other than _pleased_ at meeting him, but instead of getting the repulsed reaction he was looking for, Gohan seemed absolutely delighted.

He was saying, “Small world, huh? You know, Bulma told me you helped her with a ton of the schematics she’s developed at Capsule Corp. over the years. Personally, I hate that you stopped working for the company. I mean, I understand, conflict of interest and all, but I’ve been interested in meeting you for a long time. She says you rarely come around, though. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

At that remark, Goku, who Vegeta was watching closely, seemed to be interested in hearing more, but his gaze was now avoiding Vegeta’s, and he told his son, “We should get our table,” and then he turned to Vegeta and said, “It was good seeing you, again, Vegeta.”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta answered, but nothing else came out of his mouth as he stared at him thoughtfully. Looking straight into Goku’s somehow even _more_ wholesome face than the _last_ time he saw him, he couldn’t help but wonder how he has this uncanny ability to make him feel so fucking guilty?

Gohan was saying, “It was nice to meet you!”

Vegeta nodded at them both but he could only watch as they turned and walked away. His food came after that. He stomach was in so many knots he didn’t even want it.


	4. 4

4

It’s been a whole week and he knew that he was overthinking this absurd situation with Kakarot. He knew that he shouldn’t feel _obligated_ to call him, but the _desire_ to do so, even out of sheer curiosity, was becoming too much to ignore.

Aside from the fact that he (and his sons) have popped into his life out of thin air and that he’s clearly attractive enough to consider with some degree of lust if nothing else, Vegeta could admit that he finds him at least a little interesting. 

He has been on his mind more than he’d like to admit, especially late at night when he has nothing else to entertain himself with. Even when he went out recently, like he usually does, he couldn’t help but compare the men than he saw to him, and while engaged in conversation with potential candidates for a midnight rendezvous, he couldn’t help his wandering thoughts from circling back to Kakarot; the strange man that had bought his groceries for him.

Who does that?!

Vegeta considered stepping outside at the company party last night and calling him then, tired of being teemed by his useless, drunken coworkers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Two days later, on Monday evening, Vegeta was still struggling with his dilemma. He didn’t know why he was obsessing over this. It’s the fucking week of Thanksgiving, and Vegeta felt even more awkward calling him _now_.

The itch was too much to bear without scratching it, though, and he caved.

He pulled out his phone and flicked over his name to call him, deciding not to waste any more time in contemplation over it.

 _‘It’s just one stupid spar,’_ Vegeta told himself.

The phone rang and rang.

He thought about hanging up. It would be perfect. Goku would see the missed call, he’d have done what he said he was going to do, the next move would be on him, and then maybe he could finally get some peace-

“Hey, Vegeta!”

 _‘Fuck, he answered.’_ “Kakarot…”

“How are you?”

Vegeta didn’t reply. He’s always hated that question.

His silence was apparently fine, though, because Goku was rambling, “… I’m glad you called, even if it is a little late…”

“I’m a busy man, Kakarot,” he answered, but he thought, _‘Liar.’_

“Holidays are a busy time for me, too,” Goku agreed.

Vegeta could _hear_ him smiling. His content demeanor made Vegeta think, yet again, that he’s wasting his time. He _knows_ he’s way out of his league with him, but he had to remind himself that this isn’t about _that._ Kakarot is not interested in dating, or even fucking. _‘This is a pity phone call, damn it!_ ’

“Did you want to get together?” the man asked.

 _‘Oh, shit. That.’_ Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek and answered, “This was your idea.”

“Okay!” Goku paused, “I don’t know what you’re plans are for this weekend, but Sunday would be good for me?” He sounded hopeful.

Vegeta couldn’t say _no_. He called him for this very reason, didn’t he? “Sunday is fine,” he muttered.

“Great! How about the spar then, yeah?”

Vegeta sighed, “Yes, Kakarot, that was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Goku added, “Did you want to go to lunch, too? We could do both? I’m usually starving after a workout, I don’t know about you, though, but I imagine it’s the same, huh?”

“Fine,” Vegeta told him, gritting his teeth at himself for even allowing it to have gotten this far. He needed to end the conversation, and finally committing, he said, “Pick the place and the time, and I’ll meet you.”

“Alright!”

He’s smiling again. _Ugh._

“… Goodbye,” Vegeta hung up the phone to make what was already awkward and strange even more confusing. He felt nauseous.

Sunday couldn’t be further away.

Thanksgiving Day came and Vegeta braved a trip to Capsule Corp. mainly to see Bra. Trunks was already there, of course, and Vegeta didn’t intend to stay long. He didn’t even want to have dinner with them if he could help it.

He walked right inside and made it through the maze like it was still his home, and he immediately scooped his eight year old daughter up in his arms as she cried out for him, running to him with laughter and glee. He supposed he should feel a little less comfortable here, but he didn’t. He hadn’t bothered knocking on the front door on his way in or even announcing his arrival via a text or a call. He never does. He knew that no one was going to stop him from seeing his family.

“Vegeta!” Bulma chirped the moment he stepped into the living room of his old house. She didn’t look surprised to see him in the least. Bulma said, smiling at him, “How’s the new job going?”

He grunted as he put his daughter down. Bra was desperately trying to keep his attention and although his eyes flicked to Bulma to let her know he was listening, his focus stayed on his daughter and he allowed her to drag him to the couch, telling him to sit down so she could show him what she was coloring. He obeyed.

“That bad, huh?” Bulma spoke as though he’d answered her. “You’re gonna have to be a little more cheerful if you want to keep this one, you know. I heard about what happened at your last one.”

“Really?” Vegeta raised a brow, “From who?”

“Oh, you know, people talk. And whether I want to hear it or not, they love to talk about you.”

Vegeta ignored her. He’s heard that one before. She didn’t mean anything by it, though. She just wants him to do better.

“Wine?” She asked him, used to his lack of communication.

“Yes,” he told her, eyes still on his daughter. He didn’t even have to tell her what kind. She already knew, and she would get him his favorite.

Bulma smiled and called for the wine to be brought to them. Then she sat down opposite of him and began speaking in her usual manner about all of the usual things as they were brought Vegeta’s favorite red wine, just as he’d predicted.

He could predict everything she was about to say, too. Just like he knew she was about to light up a smoke.

And as though right on cue she pulled out her pack and the litany began. She told him about how Capsule Corp. is taking up all of her time and how the holidays are always busier than any other time of the year. How she’s tired and she wished that she still had someone around that could help her the way that he used to. How he’s more than welcome to come by more often. She mentioned that dinner should be ready soon and that Trunks ran off with her father to see the newest gadget they were working on. She told him her mother’s in the kitchen, baking something sweet for dessert.

Then she said the dreaded worst:

“Why don’t you stay over for the weekend, Vegeta?”

Bra burst out with excitement, “Yes, Daddy, please?!”

“No,” Vegeta told his daughter firmly. He looked at Bulma, “I have plans.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Bulma replied, smirking. “You can’t put them on hold? Or is _important_ this time?”

Vegeta hated how well-meaning she is, and he hated even more that she was sarcastic about her means of asking and yet genuine about her requests at the same time. She always could win him over, in the past.

“No,” he told her, his mind flickering to thoughts of Kakarot. For once he actually did have somewhat meaningful plans. _Innocent_ ones, for that matter. He admitted, “I’ve put them on hold long enough.”

She surveyed him and somehow, _somehow_ , she knew that he wasn’t lying. She remarked, “Well, I just figured I’d ask. One of these days you might take me up on it, who knows. I could really use your help around here, Vegeta. I feel like I’ve been telling you this for years but it’s like-”

“Like I’m not interested in freeloading at my ex-wife’s house? You said people were talking, _what would they say?!_ ” he mocked, then he turned back to his daughter as he told his ex, “If you insist we beat this dead horse a little more let’s at least do it in private.”

“Fine,” she smiled, “Let’s have dinner sometime. Maybe I can convince you that I’m not asking because I feel sorry for you.”

“Enough,” Vegeta glared.

Bulma only smirked.

Vegeta stayed for dinner to make his family happy, but it drained everything out of him. He supposed that’s what the wine was for, but he wasn’t sure how much it was helping. Still, he listened as Bra practically sang all night into his ear about everything that she’d been learning at school. Dr. Briefs and Mrs. Briefs were always very kind to him, and they remarked that they would like his input on this newest machine and that newest recipe. He listened as Trunks talked his mother’s ear off about all sorts of things Vegeta didn’t even know his son had an interest in, and Bulma picked on all of them in a playful, familiar manner, all the while remaining the sweet, intelligent, classy woman he fell in love with all those years ago. There were moments that Vegeta couldn’t help but chuckle right along with her, and even times when he spoke up that he managed to get the rest of the table laughing as well.

No, it wasn’t a tragedy of a family dinner. It never was. There were no fights or any awkwardness between them all whatsoever, it was simply that Vegeta felt like he didn’t belong.

Deep down, he knew that he didn’t.

After dinner and dessert, Bulma told him they were going to be heading to bed soon because she has plans to take Trunks and Bra out shopping first thing tomorrow morning. Vegeta declined her offer to join them and declared that it was time for him to go, anyways. She knew he wouldn’t dare entertain the thought of _shopping_ , especially amidst such a crowd as it’s sure to be tomorrow, and he appreciated the excuse to call it a night.

Bulma kissed him on the cheek on his way out and she whispered that they _would_ be having dinner soon and that she wasn’t taking any excuses from him otherwise. Vegeta smirked but didn’t reply to Bulma’s insistence that they talk as he bent down and hugged his daughter goodbye, for now. He told her he’d see her again next month. He simply nodded at Trunks on his way to his car, and his son nodded back. At least Trunks seemed happy enough just to have had this one night together, but something in Trunks’ eyes told Vegeta he wished it could last for more than a night.

Vegeta wished it, too. He wished it didn’t have to be this way, but this way is better. For them.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving, the one that he and Kakarot had made plans for, came all too quickly. Vegeta had spent that Friday working on his computer practically all day. Well, part of the day, he spent the other part ordering whatever gifts he could think of off Amazon for Christmas to make _certain_ he has something to give his kids this year. Maybe it was Bulma’s influence, or his daughter’s innocent smile, or Trunks’ imploring eyes, but some sort of Christmas spirit bug bit him and he felt a little silly about it, but at least he’d accomplished something positive for once.

He’d nearly forgotten about his plans for Sunday until Kakarot sent him a text Saturday afternoon, gently reminding him. The text was simple enough, a place and a time to meet and a question of confirmation that they were still on. Vegeta considered “rescheduling” and he must have thought of about twelve different things to say over the course of three hours before he finally responded. In the end he figured saying he couldn’t make it wouldn’t help anything, so he confirmed with a quick “Yes” and left it at that.

The time Kakarot wanted to meet was pretty early, 9am, but that was fine, the location, though, Vegeta wasn’t familiar with it at all. He had to google the address to see what type of place it was because Kakarot had only sent him an address and not a name.

It was a gym. It seemed that Kakarot is serious about the spar, and Vegeta had to admit that he was looking forward to it. He was feeling many things, but of all the things he was feeling, a degree of _excitement_ was within him. Maybe it was the _last_ emotion he’d put on the list, but it was still there, deep in his bones.

From what he could tell of him, the man has at least _some_ skill. After all, he’d practically knocked him down in one swoop when they’d first met. Now that it’s come down to it, Vegeta would be damned if he let him get away with that lucky strike.

He packed his gym bag, but he put on something a little warmer for the trip there and the lunch he assumed they’d be eating afterwards. If they even get that far. He doubted he’d stick around after the spar. He’s bad at commitment, after all. Clearly. He’s divorced.

He was curious about Kakarot, though. Curious about him from the moment they met, and then again, when he’d met him at the bar. And then again, after seeing him at his house and meeting his son. After meeting _both_ of his sons. Goten was a nice enough kid, honest and good-humored. Kakarot’s ex-wife must not hate him that much if she allowed him to take his youngest with him into the city. And Gohan seemed like a genuine and successful young man. Maybe Vegeta _had_ read that comment from Gohan all wrong. He couldn’t be sure, though. It was in his nature to be suspicious of people.

Trunks was sleeping in when Vegeta left, which he was glad for. He didn’t want to have to lie to his son about where he was going, but he sure as hell didn’t want to tell him what he was doing, either.

The whole drive there Vegeta was growing increasingly nervous, but it wasn’t all bad. For once, there was a bit of a good type of anticipation swimming around in the pit of his stomach.

If nothing else, he’d wipe the floor with this man and get a good chuckle out of it. That was about all he was hoping for. He certainly didn’t think they’d find anything worth talking about over lunch if he _does_ decide to join him like he’d agreed. The only thing they had in common was divorce and children from what Vegeta could tell. The man is just too _nice_ for his tastes. And too talkative. Vegeta’s not a talker, not unless he’s talking someone into something or talking himself _out_ of something. And he’s definitely _not_ nice.

He pulled up to the building and stared at it in confusion _. ‘This is the place?’_ he thought. It looks like a warehouse from the outside, not a gym, but there are cars parked out front, so he assumed his safety wasn’t in jeopardy. He shook his head to rid himself of that thought. Expecting the worst was a habit, and he’d been lured into dangerous situations before.

Whatever. This is Kakarot he’s thinking about. From what he knows of the man, he’s absolutely innocent.

Vegeta sat in his car for another minute and reconsidered going inside. He questioned why he was here. He doubted his own intentions with Kakarot and seriously doubted Kakarot’s perception of him. What was he thinking, agreeing to this?

It’s too late now, and the last thing he intended to do was give Kakarot the idea that he backed out of a fight, regardless of the reason. No. He was going to go through with at least that much of their plans for today, so he turned the car off and stepped out of it, grabbing his gym bag to take with him.

He walked inside and looked around. It wasn’t so bad, actually, plenty of equipment was available and the gym itself was bigger than Vegeta had expected. Several heads turned to look at him, but no one said a word as they went back to their business. Vegeta looked around again, trying to spot the man he came here to meet.

If Kakarot is running late he’s going to be pissed.

“Vegeta! Over here!” He heard the man cry. It’d be impossible not to recognize his voice by now.

Vegeta looked to his left and noticed Kakarot coming out of a door on the back end of the building. He was waving him over with the eagerness of a child. Vegeta let out a quick breath and headed towards him, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him.

“Hey!” Goku smiled the moment Vegeta closed the distance between them, “This way…” he offered, and he held the door open for him.

Against his better judgment, and his instincts, Vegeta walked inside of the room.

It was just another room. Nothing dangerous or suspicious around them. The floor was matted in the middle, like a boxing ring without the ropes, and the size of the area was surprisingly spacious. There were some benches off to the side, with a towel rack and a drink machine next to them with waters and such. On the opposite end there were locker rooms.

“I’m assuming you brought something to change into,” Goku said.

Vegeta turned and glared at him, “Of course.”

He was smiling. Vegeta realized he must have been joking. Vegeta didn’t do joking. He did sarcasm.

 _‘This is a mistake,’_ he thought for the… actually, he’s lost count how many times he’s thought that by now.

“Go ahead and get changed!” Goku told him, pointing to the locker rooms, “And take all the time you want to warm up, I’ve been here for a while already, so I’m ready whenever you are.”

Vegeta began walking away before he was even finished. He changed quickly, into some of his normal black workout spandex shorts, complete with his jock guard, of course, and a dark blue tank. He threw on some tennis shoes, packed the rest of his clothing up neatly, and then exited the locker room.

Kakarot was already on the mat, stretching. He looked up and surveyed him briefly. “Shoes off, please,” he told him.

Vegeta noticed he wasn’t wearing any himself and so he shrugged and removed his shoes and socks. After placing them with his things off to the side near the benches, he turned just in time to see Kakarot taking off his hoodie to reveal not only a similar tank to the one he was wearing, although his is a ridiculous shade of orange, but all of his _very_ well formed muscles that he’s been hiding. As Vegeta’s eyes roamed down his body, stopping on the way his perfect ass was still visible in his baggy, blue sweats, he had to look away from him for a second to reestablish, with himself at least, the purpose of this meeting. 

Goku tossed the hoodie aside and turned to him, “You want to warm up first?”

Vegeta, resolved to keep this about the spar, turned back to him and declined, but instead told him, “Let’s just get down to it, shall we?” He felt the smirk crawling onto his face as he stepped onto the mat. He wasn’t expecting Kakarot’s matching expression.

“So,” Goku told him, “What type of fighting styles do you know?”

Vegeta contemplated that question for a moment, and then he responded, “Brazilian Ju Jitzu, Boxing, Kick-boxing, Karate, and…” he smirked, “Krav Maga…” Not all of that was entirely true, but he figured he knew enough.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Goku hummed, “So… Did you wanna try something specific or… Did you just wanna fight freeform?”

Vegeta fell into a fighting stance, his smirk widening, and he cooed, “Freeform…”

Goku nodded, smiling, and took his own preferred stance. Vegeta was surprised by what he was seeing, the simplicity, and yet the refinement of it, but he wasn’t about to be daunted by him, or impressed.

He switched up his own stance to something a little more like Goku’s and took a few steps to the right, Goku mirrored him to the left, switching up his stance as well. Vegeta saw Goku’s smile go from his normal, sickeningly sweet grin, to fierce once more. It was distracting.

Goku struck first, sensing Vegeta’s broken concentration. Vegeta had to admit it took him a second longer to dodge than he would have liked, but he still managed. He deflected the punch and struck out one of his own. Goku deflected as well, but he managed to connect his fist to his opponent’s gut.

Vegeta was _pissed_. He was quick to respond, though, and he grabbed onto Goku’s arm and used it to help bring him forward as he jammed his knee into his thigh. He could tell that hurt him, but the next thing he knew he was on his back, being pinned down underneath Goku’s large frame, where one of Goku’s arms was crossed over his neck and the other was holding one of his wrists against the padded floor. Goku was calling for a tap out.

 _‘Never,’_ Vegeta thought. He used his free hand to press against a pressure point underneath Goku’s arm at the same time he used his smaller body to his advantage and brought both of his knees up to squeeze in between them. As he forced his finger into the junction and pushed Kakarot away, the man’s hold buckled, and he was allowed just enough room to then kick him away. Goku looked surprised as he held onto his chest. Vegeta flipped himself up to land on his feet and then crouched into position again.

“You’re resourceful, especially with how little you are. I can tell you have experience… But that’s not exactly typical fighting techniques you just used…” Goku half-complimented.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, “I’m used to being underestimated… Especially because of my _height_ …” he corrected him, “And I’m used to fighting… dirty… Maybe we should have laid down some rules.”

Goku’s more serious grin returned. He didn’t reply.

Vegeta wanted to know what the hell he was thinking, and he wanted to wipe that smile off his damn face. He went in for the first strike this time, but Goku was fast, and he side-stepped his attack like it was nothing before he rammed his elbow into Vegeta’s back. Seething, Vegeta didn’t hesitate to throw a kick behind him that left Goku flat on his ass as the end of the mat. Vegeta did a back-handspring back tuck, spinning in mid-air so that when he landed, he landed directly on top of Goku, and used the force of his fall to push him onto his back, and he held his wrists to the mat on either side of his head, smirking down at him.

“Truce?” he asked in a mocking tone.

Goku chuckled, “You didn’t tell me you knew gymnastics…”

“Gymnastics is not a fighting style,” Vegeta purred above him.

“What about Capoeira?” Goku offered, struggling a little in his hold.

“Dance-fighting?!” Vegeta laughed, “No, and if it’s similar it’s not on purpose, but I’m not going to explain my fighting history to you right now.”

A 180 degree flip later and Vegeta was on his back again, facing a grinning Kakarot, who was above _him_ now, saying, “You have talent, for sure, but I don’t think you’ve ever actually graduated any of the classes you took, did you?”

Fuming, Vegeta growled, and replied, “What makes you think that?”

“Just a hunch,” Goku replied and then he added, with a hint of cockiness, “Tap out?”

Vegeta lurched forwards and headbutt him.

Goku let him go, pulling back to hold onto his head. He whined, “Owww…”

“What’s your head made of?!” Vegeta complained, holding his own. That fucking hurt _him_ far more than it should have.

Goku suddenly began laughing. Vegeta looked at him, offended, but then, after a moment, when he saw that Goku wasn’t laughing at _him_ , he found himself smirking back, almost _smiling_ even, and after another moment, he began laughing as well.

Goku stood up and asked, “Another round?”

Vegeta followed his lead and answered, “You’re on.”

It was noon before they were finally finished. Goku took everything Vegeta threw at him and never complained, fair fighting or not. In fact, throughout the spar, Goku had begun to coach Vegeta on little things that he saw that could be improved upon, and while Vegeta responded with spite and violence, he was listening to what he had to say, nonetheless, and learning quickly.

There were times when Goku had definitely one-upped him, out maneuvered, or even simply all-out _beat_ him, but Vegeta had plenty of victorious moments, as well, and overall, he was feeling pretty good about their fight, although there was a tinge of anger at the fact that he wasn’t wiping the floor with him as he’d initially planned.

It wasn’t a life or death brawl, after all, and Vegeta had to keep reminding himself of that. Goku, though, seemed to sense the intensity within him, and just when Vegeta was feeling more heated than he should be for a friendly spar, Goku would speak to him in a soothing voice, coaching him or complimenting him on one thing or another, and reminding him that they weren’t really trying to hurt each other.

It irritated Vegeta to no end that this man was talking to him like that, but that wasn’t the only thing running through his mind about their fight, and it wasn’t the only thing Vegeta was becoming heated over.

They’ve been practically crawling all over one another for the last hour and Vegeta was feelings some side effects from it, but Goku didn’t seem to have noticed, or been affected. They’d taken to grappling towards the end of their fight because they were both too tired to keep going at everything else, and when Vegeta wasn’t enraged by Goku’s positive “I-got-this” attitude and constructive criticism, he kept having to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let his eyes wander too long over Goku’s sweating neckline. He had to ignore his heady scent. He had to resist the urge to press into his strong, sure touch. He had to stop himself from throwing out any unwarranted sensual remarks. But Goku didn’t seem to be having any trouble with those typed of things, but he wasn’t having trouble putting his hands all over him, either, and guiding him into whatever position he chose for the sake of _teaching_ him something, meanwhile huffing orders in a gruffer voice than Vegeta was listening to, and passing friendly taunts into his ear while doing so.

 _He_ wasn’t having any sexually impending thoughts, and he didn’t even have the faintest _clue_ that Vegeta _might_ have been thinking of anything other than their spar.

The worst part is that Vegeta actually _wants_ to spar with him again in the future! Even just for the sake of new knowledge, but he knew he just _couldn’t_. It would only lead to him wanting him more.

Damn it he needs to get into the shower.

When it came time to hit the locker room, Vegeta let Goku go in by himself first, declaring that he needed to make a phone call and get some water. He needed some water, sure, but he didn’t need to make a phone call. What he needed his massive erection to calm down. When Goku heard this, he didn’t seem bothered in the least and he went on ahead inside, promising he wouldn’t be long.

When Goku emerged, changed into something warmer, Vegeta refused to look at him and tried to stroll casually into the locker room, and he did so as hurriedly as casual can be. He immediately stripped down to nothing as he turned on the water, hardon in hand to relieve some of the pressure. He didn’t have time to work this one out, so he opted for colder water and grumbled to himself about his frustrations as he cleaned up.

When Vegeta came out of the locker room, he was feeling better, but he wasn’t in much of a good mood all things considered. Physical attraction aside, Kakarot had proven to be more of a worthy opponent than he’d initially thought, and the very idea of the man being able to actually defeat him set his emotional cages rattling.

Goku was sitting on one of the benches waiting for him, and Vegeta, now not so distracted, immediately saw that, as he’d suspected, he lacks any sense of style whatsoever. He found it a little comical.

Goku looked up from his phone at him and smiled, “I’m starving! I’ve got a place in mind for lunch, you ready?”

Vegeta nodded in agreement, watching him closely, but inside he was annoyed at himself. He’d been so busy thinking about him in _more ways than he should_ that he didn’t think of a way to get out of having lunch with him like he’d planned on doing.

Goku was already up, gym bag in hand, and he headed out the door. Vegeta followed. On their way back through the front part of the gym practically everyone there said goodbye to Goku, and he waved at them all and told them to have a great day as he practically skipped out the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Vegeta asked him, heading to his car, and throwing his gym bag inside.

“What?”

“All those people? Saying goodbye to you? Do you live here or something?” he asked sardonically.

“Well, kind of!” he smiled, going to his car, and throwing his bag inside as well.

Vegeta’s eyes widened and he felt his jaw drop a little. He hadn’t expected him to actually say _yes._

Goku laughed, having noticed the look he was giving him. He told him, “I work here. I mean, I… I own this place, and I’m also a personal trainer here… Sometimes I offer martial arts classes, but it depends…”

Vegeta looked away at that last part while he felt the terrible sensation of his face going blanch. Of course he’s a fucking _personal trainer_. Mister I-go-around-helping-people-all-day! Mister I-own-my-own-gym-and-have-the-money-to-buy-other-peoples-groceries! Mister I-know-everything-about-martial-arts!

Goku was explaining, “I have some money saved up from my second job and so I decided to build a gym here in the city.”

 _‘Second job?_ ’ Vegeta thought, _‘Ah, so he’s never around… Just as I’d suspected.’_ Maybe he had read that comment from Gohan correctly, after all.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Goku shrugged, “I’m not really much of a visionary, and I had a ton of help putting this together. Eventually I’m hoping to get the outside looking better, but for now, it works, and I like it…”

Vegeta didn’t reply.

“So,” Goku spoke again, only slightly bothered by Vegeta’s silence, “Did you want to ride with me, or…?”

“I’ll just follow you,” Vegeta told him, and he used that as an excuse to jump into his car. He didn’t want to look at him anymore.

He couldn’t help but wonder why the hell Kakarot ever got a divorced from his wife? If he has enough money for all of this… And he keeps himself in shape… and he’s so _fucking nice_ …?! Vegeta was dying to know. Maybe it was his absence that caused the breakup. But he sure as hell has been available to call and text… Vegeta figured that he’ll find out while they’re having lunch. Or maybe he just won’t say a word to him the whole time. That’s probably a better plan.

Goku stood outside of his car for a moment longer. Vegeta watched him, confused at why he was just standing there, but he couldn’t catch his expression, all he could see was his waist down, not that he was complaining. Goku finally got in and started up his car while Vegeta was drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel as he waited anxiously for the man to just _drive._ He tried his hardest not to look over at him. He just needed to get this over with!

Eventually Goku pulled out of his parking spot and headed out. Vegeta followed close behind him.

The drive to the place Goku had picked didn’t take long. Vegeta was grateful. Traffic was still a mess even for a Sunday and it wreaked havoc on Vegeta’s already frayed mind. The sooner he could eat something and leave, the better he’d feel.

When they pulled up and got out it was yet another place that Vegeta was unfamiliar with. He’s been living in this city nearly 20 years, you’d think he’d at least heard of this place before.

“Where are we?” he asked, slightly concerned.

Goku smiled. “It’s good, I promise,” was all he said.

That was not exactly comforting, but Vegeta followed him inside anyways.

It smelled _great_ and Vegeta realized that he actually is famished. The business was busy, too, and sort of loud, but they were greeted promptly and taken to a booth on the far end of the building in no time.

Once they were seated Goku told him, his voice slightly raised above the chatter around them, “I hope you’re not like some super healthy food guy because this definitely isn’t it, but I like a lot of protein after working out.” He picked up the menu and began perusing it.

 _‘Me too,’_ Vegeta thought, his eyes gazing over Goku’s face, his mind briefly picturing his body beneath those clothes. He wasn’t thinking about the same thing Goku was, that’s for sure. He picked up his own menu to distract himself from looking at the other man and saw that there were a lot of different food options and that a lot of it actually _is_ protein.

“It’s all made from scratch,” Goku was saying, “And nothing’s frozen here. I know it’s not one of those over the top fancy food places I’m sure you usually go…”

Vegeta’s eyes lifted to his.

“I mean,” he smiled, catching his gaze for a second, “Gohan’s into that, and I like that stuff okay, but I prefer to order things that I’ve heard of before, ya know? Things I can pronounce…”

Vegeta hid the smirk that spread onto his lips behind his menu and tried his best to focus on finding something to eat.

“The portion sizes are really big here, too,” Goku was still yammering.

Goku kept talking, still, but Vegeta didn’t say a word in reply.

A server came by and took their drink order. They only asked for waters, but Vegeta told Kakarot he was ready, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. Goku looked surprised but pleased and when the server told them to go ahead, they both ordered nearly the same thing. It seemed odd since they’d never discussed it, but Vegeta supposed he’d picked something decent if that’s what Kakarot had chosen as well.

He regretted his decision to order in such a hurry though because as soon as the server left, he took the menus away as well, and Vegeta suddenly realized he had nothing to distract him. Now he had no choice but to stare across the table at Kakarot. Or engage in conversation with him. Both, actually.

“Trunks was right about you,” Goku said, smiling.

“About _what?!_ ” Vegeta growled, suspicious of what he might have heard and instantly going on the defensive.

“When he said you were a great fighter,” he answered.

Vegeta grumbled, not falling for his compliments, “Says the man who trains others to fight.”

Goku’s eyes somehow softened even more at that comment as he looked Vegeta over. He said, “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Spare me your approval,” Vegeta glared. He didn’t need his praise, and he didn’t want it, but the way he was looking at him now almost made Vegeta feel as though he could sense his insecurity. Or his iniquity. Both. Vegeta _hated_ the look he was getting from him. Hated that he was looking at him like he was looking straight through him. Straight through his carefully constructed walls.

Vegeta knew that he was too brash for his own good and that his attitude wasn’t necessary, but it couldn’t be helped. What’s worse, every time he opened his mouth around this guy, he stuck his foot right in it. He knew that he would eventually reveal more about himself than he wanted to. Like how much of an asshole he is. Not that it’s much of a secret.

He didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t be bothered to fake anything around him. There wouldn’t be any point in it. There was no way he was going to make up a façade while with Kakarot in order to get anything from him. The man simply demanded more respect than that. Vegeta didn’t even know why he felt that way, but he did, and he had no intentions of playing nice in hopes that _maybe_ Kakarot would consider moving this acquaintanceship into the bedroom.

 _‘Silent lunch it is, then,’_ Vegeta figured mentally. Or he could just keep being an asshole and end this whole ordeal now…

Cocking his head to the side a little bit, and only concerned with his own thoughts which he obviously felt the need to express, Goku told him, “I’d love to do that again some time. I don’t think we really got the chance to explore all of our techniques, but I really learned a lot today.”

Vegeta took a drink of water, still not believing him, and even more disbelieving of the fact that Kakarot actually wanted to hang out with him again. He looked away.

Still, Goku said, “So, where’d you learn how to fight like that?”

“Like what?” Vegeta questioned, somehow roped into conversation again.

Goku gave him a knowing look and specified, “Like your life depends on it?”

Surprised, Vegeta’s eyes fell back onto his. “What would _you_ know about fighting for your life, Kakarot?”

Goku gave him a small smile, but he, for once, didn’t answer the question. He brought his right forearm up to rest on the table and said, laughing a little, “Are you always so argumentative?”

“Yes,” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed at him. Goku looked like he was studying his face and Vegeta didn’t like it. He growled. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Goku shook his head, “I just… I’m just trying to get to know you, but you don’t seem interested in talking.”

“No?” Vegeta remarked smartly.

“Is it me?” he wondered.

Vegeta sneered, looking him over. He couldn’t tell if he was truly just being friendly or if he was actually insecure. He highly doubted he was insecure. He goaded, “What do you want to know, Kakarot? All my deepest, darkest secrets? My past? My dreams? My goals in life? Or perhaps you want to know what my favorite color is and what kind of movies I like to watch?”

“Well, yeah,” Goku replied, calmly, “All of that. Any of it…”

“Why?” Vegeta wondered, his destructive emotions now bleeding through his every pore.

Silent lunch wasn’t working, so his “dick-mode” had automatically turned on by default. Premeditated or not, Vegeta couldn’t help it. It’s just the way that he is. He could tell that Goku was getting a little irritated with him, but he seemed more interested in getting some answers than not, and his patience, if nothing else, was remarkable.

Goku asked him, “Why not? My gosh, are you always in a bad mood?”

“What should you care?” Vegeta spat. It had been a very long time since anyone had tried to get to know him for no reason other than the sake of getting to know him, and he didn’t know how to take it. Didn’t understand the point of it. People use people, they don’t just befriend them for the hell of it.

Goku was still giving him a look. It was the same look his counselors always gave him. The “I find you pathetic” look. Vegeta hated it.

Finally, Goku sighed and, looking down at nothing in particular on the table, he said, “I understand…”

Vegeta let out a short breath and clicked his tongue, thinking, _‘As if you could_ ever _…’_

“You never really wanted to hang out with me, did you?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed. _‘Wow,’_ he thought sarcastically, _‘His perceptive abilities are something else. Was he just too dense to see it for himself until now?’_ Vegeta truly didn’t know what to say.

Goku shook his head, his eyes still studying the table, “I guess I sorta pushed you into this.”

What the fuck is he supposed to say to _that_?

Goku admitted, “I’ve been having a hard time meeting people, you know? And I guess I figured that since our sons became friends, maybe we could, too.”

Needing to explain himself, even a little, to not feel so damn uncomfortable, Vegeta told him, “I don’t do ‘ _friends’_ , Kakarot. I never have.”

Goku looked up at him, half-smiled, and replied, “I’m not good at it, either. Honest. But…” he licked his lips, his imploring eyes searching, “Well I just…”

When he trailed off Vegeta waited, but he never tried to finish his sentence as he sat across from him, still peering deeply into Vegeta’s eyes. Vegeta thought, _‘Good grief! That face! That lonesome, someone killed my puppy face! He’s a grown man, damn it! A grown man with incredible fighting skills at that! What the hell is wrong with him?!’_

Vegeta couldn’t handle it any longer. He was getting what he wanted, he supposed, but now that Goku was showing remorse for trying to spend time with him, he didn’t like it. He attempted to smooth things over, if only for his own sanity. “I…” Vegeta hesitated, “I’m not angry with _you_.”

Goku seemed remotely pleased by that response but Vegeta could only look away and huff.

Their food arrived. Thank goodness.

They put their conversation on hold to woof everything down, their hunger getting the better of them. They ate with similar bravado, but Vegeta, at least, had some refinement to his technique. Watching Kakarot eat, however, was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and not in a good way.

Once they’d slowed down and were nearly finished eating, Vegeta quipped, trying to ease some of the tension out of the air between them, “Now I know why your wife left you.”

Goku nearly choked and immediately coughed to clear his throat.

“Watching you eat is disgusting. You should really learn some manners,” Vegeta remarked.

“Oh…” Goku’s face turned red.

 _‘Is he actually choking?’_ Vegeta wondered, _‘What the hell is_ that _look? Are his eyes… watering?’_ “Why did you get a divorce anyways?” Vegeta asked, putting the question out there as nonchalantly as he could while trying to move the conversation along and let him know he was only partly serious.

“I didn’t…” Goku admitted quietly. “She died.”

 _‘Oh… … … **Fuck**.’_ It was Vegeta’s turn for his face to get red and he sat there, feeling embarrassed, foolish, and like the complete asshole that he is for a whole two minutes before Goku finally spoke again.

“Um, I’ll be right back,” he told him, and then he got out of the booth and ran away.

Another two minutes went by and Vegeta sat there alone, ashamed, and mortified.

Vegeta told the server when he finally came back around, “Check! Now! For the love of humanity, give me the check!”

“It’s been paid,” the guy told him.

“ _What?!_ ” Vegeta squawked.

“Yeah, Goku comes here all the time. He knows the owner. He paid the bill on his way to the bathroom just a minute ago, so you’re all set. Have a nice day, man.”

Vegeta’s jaw dropped.

He sat there for a second feeling utterly embarrassed before he sat up and looked around. That’s when he noticed Goku talking to someone at the bar. He was shaking his hand and then waving him goodbye as he turned to head back to the booth.

Vegeta stood up, thoroughly irritated, and headed outside, not heeding Kakarot in the slightest as the man called after him.

They made it outside, with Goku trailing on his heels by a few feet, still calling for him to wait up.

Vegeta stopped walking away, but only to turn and yell at him, “Why the hell did you run off like that?!” At his outburst, the people walking nearby immediately began getting out of the away, avoiding the situation that had apparently arisen between the two men. Goku startled at him, and Vegeta looked around for a moment. He decided not to make a spectacle out of everything this time, so instead of continuing, he turned away and grumbled to himself, “As if this whole thing isn’t embarrassing enough!”

Goku went to speak, but Vegeta determined he wasn’t having it. He turned back around and shouted, “And why the hell did you pay for my lunch?!”

“Well, I-”

“I _hate_ being indebted to someone! Especially _you_!”

“Huh?”

“And why did you lie to me about having just moved here?! That server said you come here all the time! That you have for _years_! What was the point of telling me otherwise?!” Vegeta bristled.

“I _did_ just move here!” Goku finally got a word in.

Vegeta scoffed.

“Listen! Gohan has lived in the city for a few years, now, but I’ve been coming here for even longer than that…”

Vegeta quieted at the reminder of his eldest son and he suddenly felt pressurized under Kakarot’s cool gaze.

Goku was saying, “I don’t cook all too much for myself and Goten. Some things, sure, but I go out to eat a lot, too, and this is one of my favorite spots to go. Has been for a long time.” He sighed, “I guess I shouldn’t have run off like that, either, I know,” he scratched the back of his head, “I just needed a second to myself because I wasn’t expecting you to ask me about my ex.”

Vegeta barked, “Don’t you think you should have told me about it the first time you brought it up?!”

“Yeah,” Goku conceded, “I just don’t talk about it a lot.”

Flustered, Vegeta still argued, “And what about the bill, Kakarot?! Hmm?! I don’t need you to pay for my lunch!”

Goku frowned, “You overpaid me for the groceries, remember? You gave me forty dollars extra. I was only paying you back. I had a feeling that if I asked for the bill in front of you, you’d throw a fit,” He tried a weak smile at that.

Vegeta recoiled. He hadn’t thought of that. He rebutted, though, affronted at the reminder, “Don’t ever bring that up again! You didn’t have to do that in the first place! I can take care of my own business!”

“Okay, I won’t bring it up,” Goku said, agitation now resting on his brow, though he still answered sweetly, “I don’t know why you’re so angry about it. I never meant it as an insult. I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help!” Vegeta exploded, “Don’t you get that I’ve been trying to push you away?! You even said it yourself! I’ve insulted you; I’ve ignored you; I have been _nothing_ but _mean_ to you and it’s like you just don’t care!”

Goku spoke, then, and he even managed to do so in a dignified and composed, almost amused manner, as he said, “Are you talking about the food comment? You think that’s the first time I’ve heard that?” he laughed a little in spite of being upset.

“No! That’s not what I meant!” Vegeta objected. That was the one thing he’d said that he actually wasn’t trying to be mean about. He blurted out, having had enough, “Just _stop being nice to me!_ ” Goku flinched as he continued to yell at him, “I’m not interested in being your friend!”

Goku answered, thoughtfully, “I just thought that maybe you were being stand-offish because you don’t know me. I kind of figured that you were, I dunno, mostly bark and no bite. Well, not _a lot_ of bite.”

Vegeta was stumped for a second before he countered, “I am more bite than you can handle!”

Goku only laughed.

Vegeta scoffed and turned heal at that, heading to his car. He threw up his hand, and said, “I have to go.”

“No you don’t,” Goku said, calling his bluff.

Vegeta turned back to him and replied in astonishment, “Excuse me?”

Kakarot stood there, tall, and confident, and he pursed his lips as he said, eyes suddenly more serious, “You heard me. I know you don’t have to go, and really, I think it’s a shame…”

“What is?!” Vegeta wondered. Is there a face this guy makes that _doesn’t_ drive him crazy?

“That you can’t let yourself have a good time. I know that you did, even if it was just for a second, back there, out on that mat. You should really just try to be happy every once in a while, Vegeta.” Now heading to his car, he called over his shoulder, “I don’t know what’s going on in your life right now, and it’s none of my business, but I know what you’re doing. I know what it’s like to beat yourself up over things. It sucks. For you and everyone around you. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“You. Don’t. Know. Me!” Vegeta roared, opening up the door to his car.

“Whatever you say, Vegeta,” Goku called back as he did the same. He got inside and closed the door before Vegeta could reply.

Vegeta got into his own car and slammed the door shut, starting it up and peeling out of the parking lot before Goku could even back out of his parking space.

His emotions were enflamed. He wanted to call him and yell at him some more! But he wasn’t about to do that, of course. That would just be ridiculous.

Damn him! Damn him! _Damn him_ for being _nothing_ like he thought he’d be! No, he’s _everything_ he’d never expected. He had the _audacity_ to call him out on his shit. Vegeta thought for sure he’d just crumble up and take it, but nooooo! No, he had to go and be all _perfectly accurate about him!_

What. The Fuck. Just HAPPENED?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally Random A/N:
> 
> I've seen people post podfics, and add images to their works, um, how the hell are they doing that? I have something I want to share, unrelated to this, and I can't figure out how to do it?!!
> 
> Also, thanks for the love guys! I figured before I even posted this that this story wasn't going to be everyone's cup of tea but I appreciate the interests of those who are liking it so far! Thank you!


	5. 5

5

Vegeta was more of an asshole than usual to everyone at work when he went in the following Monday. Although he spent the next two and a half weeks diving into his responsibilities as a way to distract himself from thinking about Kakarot, it wasn’t exactly working. 

He should have been able to forget all about it and brush it off as the nothingness that it was, but for some reason, he just couldn’t get Kakarot out of his head. He didn’t know if it was because Goten kept coming over, reminding him of the man just when he thought he was rid of thoughts of him, but he found himself much more distracted by the very _idea_ of Kakarot _in general_ than just the simple fact that the man had the nerve to speak to him like that. He couldn’t get his voice out of his head, or his face, or his ass, for that matter.

Vegeta scoffed at himself. Kakarot might have a great ass but Vegeta wasn’t interested in seeing him again, especially after that.

Bulma has been texting him nonstop recently, too, and that was only adding to his annoyance. She does that every once in a while, hits him up until he caves in and does whatever she asks. She wants to go to dinner. He does not. She keeps pressuring him over it. He doesn’t want to hear it.

He rolls his eyes and stops typing as another text comes through.

 **Bulma** : I made reservations for us Saturday night. Maggiano’s, 7 o’clock. You love Italian food and I’m buying so you should come, even if it’s only for the food. And If you stand me up, you’ll be standing up the most eligible, richest, charming, and beautiful bachelorette in town. 

Vegeta smirked at her conceitedness. He put his phone down and shook his head as he continued to work. His phone went off again.

 **Bulma** : If nothing else, you can tell everyone at work you have plans and actually not be lying for once.

He frowned. He has plans. Sometimes.

Actually, he hadn’t done much of anything recently. It didn’t help that the _incident_ with Kakarot was adding to his already normally agitated state. Truth be told, every time his phone went off, he was hoping for it to be him, but the man hadn’t tried to call or text him at all. Not even once.

Vegeta didn’t know why he was so bothered by that fact. Perhaps it was because he knew that even though he _should_ be grateful for the sheer fact that he was now being left alone like he’d initially wanted, he wasn’t. He wasn’t happy about it at all. He was annoyed by it. He’d hoped, for some reason, that Kakarot would give up and say something, even though he was well aware that it’s him who should be apologizing for being such a dick. _For no reason._

He knew that Kakarot was right, really, and he hated to admit it, but he’d had a good time with him, too, and there was no reason for his behavior. Aside from the fact that he was doing it intentionally, he could admit that Kakarot didn’t deserve his wrath. He could even admit that Kakarot had a point about the way that he’d gone about it. If he weren’t interested, he could have just said so. Any other time, with any other person, he _would_ have just said so.

But he _is_ interested, only, not in the same way that Kakarot is.

It’s better that their… _whatever that was_ … ended. It’s better than he hasn’t called.

He picked up his phone and sent Bulma a text that said “Fine.” At least then he could have something else to think about. At least then he wouldn’t be spending another evening thinking about _him._ And at least then he wouldn’t spend yet another Saturday night either completely alone or prowling the local scenes for a one-night stand.

He was growing tired of those, honestly, but every time he told himself he was going to stop he got horny again and couldn’t walk away from temptation. Or stop flirting with temptation. Or stop becoming the temptation.

His phone went off again.

 **Bulma** : I knew you’d agree eventually 😉

He grumbled to himself, unsure if he’d actually made a wise choice.

Saturday night came and Vegeta was finishing getting ready to leave when Trunks was hollering for him from the other room.

“Goten is coming over again! We’re gonna go out, okay?” He said from the living room.

“Whatever,” Vegeta growled, coming out of his bedroom as he was pulling on his gloves, “So am I.”

“Now?” Trunks snorted, “I thought you usually wait until at least nine before- Whoa,” Trunks startled as he looked over at him walking into the room.

“What?” Vegeta scowled.

Trunks blinked, “You’re like… _really_ dressed up. More than usual,” he eyed him, “Who are you going out _with_?”

“Your mother,” Vegeta replied, checking for his wallet, phone, and keys.

Trunks laughed, clearly not believing him, “Did you just ‘your mom’ joke me? Come on, seriously, are you actually going on a _date_? Who’s the guy?!”

It was Vegeta’s turn to snort, “No, brat, I’m _actually_ going to _dinner_ with your _mother_.”

“Oh…” he replied, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Don’t do anything stupid while you’re out,” he scolded him, throwing on his coat and a scarf, “And call me if you _do_ ,” he added as he headed down the hallway, “And whatever you do, don’t call your mother!”

“ _‘Don’t call your mother,’_ ” he mocked, saying it about the same time as him, “Yeah, yeah, I know. We won’t get into trouble! BYE!”

Vegeta opened the front door and nearly jumped when he saw Goten standing there just about to knock on the door.

“Hey!” the kid said, “How are you, Vegeta? You look nice!”

Vegeta only grunted and stepped outside, bypassing him with little attention given.

Goten told him, “My Dad said you guys had a really good spar the other day!”

“You sparred with Goku?” Trunks, who was now approaching from the hallway, asked him before he could reply.

He huffed, having to stop in his retreat, and thought about saying, _‘If you call_ that _sparring,’_ but he didn’t want Trunks to misconstrue his words, so he simply nodded, and said, “I have to go.”

“Maybe we could watch next time?” Goten wondered.

Trunks laughed, “Yeah, right, he never lets _me_ watch his fights and he fights _all_ the-”

“Trunks!” Vegeta barked and glared in warning.

Trunks recanted, “Anyways,” and he tugged on his friend’s arm, “Come on Goten, let’s get ready to go!”

The boys said their goodbyes to Vegeta, which he simply threw up a hand to acknowledge before fleeing down the stairs.

He was so busy trying to stop Trunks from telling Goten about his lifestyle choices and worrying about what Bulma is going to say at dinner tonight that by the time he got to the parking lot and was walking to his car, he wasn’t paying any attention to anything around him. The way his breath showed up like clouds of smoke in the cold only added to his aggravated mood when he heard a voice calling his name.

He knows that voice…

He turned and immediately saw Kakarot standing beside his own car, parked on the opposite side of the lot. He hadn’t even noticed him standing there. His car is on, he must have just been about to leave. He must have seen Vegeta heading down the stairs and stopped to wait for him…

Vegeta completely forgot that Kakarot drops Goten off every time he comes over, otherwise he wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to leave. Then he could have avoided this confrontation. And he would have, forever, regardless that he _wanted_ to talk to him. He knew that in his stubbornness he would have gone on wondering about the other man for an undetermined amount of time without ever doing anything about it.

“Hey,” Goku smiled at him.

Apparently, the other man felt otherwise.

“Kakarot…” Vegeta acknowledged. He didn’t feel so cold all of the sudden. He felt… numb.

Goku came forward, crossing the way, and in spite of not being invited into Vegeta’s personal space, he walked all the way up to him. Vegeta could only stand there, staring, unsure of what was about to happen. He surveyed his clothes as a means of avoiding his eyes. He was hardly dressed for the weather. It’s fucking snowing, damn it. The man doesn’t even have a scarf on.

“Vegeta,” he began, and licking his lips as he placed fidgeting hands into his coat pockets, he told him, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about the other day.”

 _‘Is he serious?’_ Vegeta thought, looking into his chest and then down at his car keys in his own hand. He still couldn’t look directly at him. He just wanted to get into his car and leave. This is pointless.

Goku was saying, fumbling through his words, “I didn’t mean to say all those things. You were right, we don’t really know each other. I should have told you about my wife, and I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you owe me anything by paying for lunch.”

He paused, but Vegeta didn’t reply.

“I wasn’t waiting on you out here, either. Really. I mean, I’ve thought about calling you, but… and I didn’t know you’d be coming down right now. When I saw you, though, I guess I just thought it would be rude if I didn’t say anything. Or if I left without saying anything. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, I was just—”

“Enough. Don’t, Kakarot, just… Don’t,” Vegeta stopped him, looking up at him. _‘Don’t_ apologize! _Just move on,’_ he thought. He should say that, but he didn’t. Another thought struck him, _‘He_ is _trying to move on, isn’t he?’_ Vegeta knew a lot of tragedies in his life, but he didn’t know what Kakarot was going through. He didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to Bulma.

He looked away. He’d been thinking about this so much for the last three weeks. Now that Kakarot’s here, standing in front it him, Vegeta didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t know how to apologize, and he didn’t know how to take _his_ apology. Why is _he_ apologizing, anyways?

He’s still standing there in front of him, even though Vegeta hadn’t said anything else. Kakarot seemed determined to get to a conclusion. He wasn’t going to let him just leave, was he?

Finally, Vegeta looked up into his face again, and he saw that he looked cold, but he looked warm, too. Warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the man’s personal aura. Warm in a way that Vegeta didn’t understand because he, himself, is cold. Cold-hearted. Cold-blooded. Cold and calculating and cruel.

“Truce?” Goku offered simply, sweetly, removing one of his hands from his pocket and holding it out for him to shake.

Vegeta looked down at it in question. It was a simple gesture, but Vegeta despised it. He despised how kind he is. How gentle and charming he is. How _forgiving_ he is. He looked back up into Goku’s eyes and he suddenly felt his fingertips getting more frigid by the second, through his gloves, even, as he considered reaching for the other man’s hand. He made civility look so easy, but for Vegeta, it wasn’t so simple.

He noticed that Kakarot wasn’t wearing any gloves. It is so cold outside.

Kakarot wasn’t even asking for an apology in return and Vegeta is so cold inside.

Vegeta hesitated, but after a second, he flipped his keys around in his hand and opened up his car door to lean inside. Goku took a step backwards, retracting his hand. Vegeta pulled out a bundled-up scarf he keeps in his car for emergencies and handed it to the other man.

“Take this,” he told him.

“What… is it?”

“Just put on the damn scarf, Kakarot, it’s freezing out here,” Vegeta scolded, unsure of what’s come over him. He added, “You should probably invest in a good pair of gloves, too. The winter lasts for longer than just Christmas, you know.”

Goku smiled down at him and took the scarf. His eyes searched his face, but Vegeta knew he wasn’t going to find whatever it was that he was looking for. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he never did.

“I have to go…” Vegeta told him, looking away again.

Goku nodded and threw the scarf around his neck. “Thanks, Vegeta…” he hesitated, leaning forwards, something else on the tip of his tongue, something else in his eyes, but then he simply added, “See ya,” with a small smile, and he crossed the street to his own car, got in, and drove away.

Vegeta got into his car and started it up. “Not if I can help it,” he grumbled to himself.

“Well!” Bulma exclaimed after she exhausted all of the how-do-you-dos and initial casual pleasantries between them during their meal. Their plates had been cleared and they were working on drink number four, which they considered a liquid dessert, when she started hitting him with the harder stuff. “I must say, Vegeta, if there’s one thing you’ve taught me it’s to keep my eyes open for all the creeps out there.”

Vegeta chuckled, knowing she meant the comment in the best way.

She was saying, “Dating sure is hard nowadays. Even for a maneater like myself. You’re a bit of a maneater, too, aren’t you? We run in the same circles, still, you know, and I’ve heard you’ve broken a few hearts. And faces. Are you having any luck in finding anything serious?”

“Unlike you, I’m not looking for anything serious, and I don’t know why you bother, you don’t have the time, and you and I both agreed we weren’t going to introduce anyone into Bra’s life anytime soon.”

“Hmm… Is that why you don’t come around? Because you’re too busy with rando’s to stop by. Or is that why you don’t bother to bring her to your place? Too much foot traffic.”

Vegeta scoffed, “No one sets foot in my place unless they’re friends of our son. Besides, Bra is much more comfortable at your house.”

“She misses you,” Bulma disagreed, “And while I agree and I still want her to stay mostly with me, I’d like for you to visit more.”

“Fine,” Vegeta agreed for the sake of getting her to drop the subject.

“Why _don’t_ you stop by more?” She pushed.

“Because I’m busy,” he explained, although that was only partly why.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about your nightly escapades. I’m sure you can spare some time between 8 am and 8 pm, don’t you think?”

 _‘Fucking Trunks,’_ Vegeta frowned and then said, “Trunks doesn’t share anything with me about your night life; you must feel pretty good about that.”

“Don’t change the subject. But, in case you’re wondering why that is, it’s because at least _I_ can be _discrete_.”

 _That_ comment was _not_ meant well.

Still she was saying, “Trunks isn’t around to notice what I’m doing. And you’re gone too often for him to _not_ notice anything. You should really try to be home more.”

“And do what?” he argued, “Cook and clean and ask him how his schoolwork is getting on?”

Bulma laughed. She knew he wasn’t making a stab at her. She always was progressive and that certainly isn’t her parenting style, either. She told him, bypassing his mock-questions, “Seriously, Vegeta. I need you at Capsule Corp. more than you think…”

“How so?” he retorted, “You have help, already, don’t you? A nanny for Bra. All the comforts life can offer. And I have it on good authority you have someone working directly for you on new Capsule projects at your leisure. What more could you want?”

“Hmmm,” she studied him, smiling, “I wonder how you heard about that. Must be Trunks’ friend, Goten that you told about him.” She sighed, “They are brothers, after all. Gohan is wonderful, Vegeta. Even _you’d_ like him. And his wife- Videl- you know her. She’s Hercule’s daughter, remember?”

Vegeta rolled his eyes at the mention of that insufferable man’s name.

Bulma was saying, “Gohan married rich, for sure, but I think he brings more to the table in the relationship than she does. She’s a sweet girl but he is a one in a million kind of young man. Which reminds me…”

Deflecting, and not paying her comments too much attention, Vegeta answered, “Pity you didn’t meet him first; you could have had him for yourself.”

“Please, Vegeta, I’m not a cougar! That’s just weird and I didn’t mean it like that! But…”

Vegeta smirked, buzzed enough to be amused by this conversation. He wondered, “So what’s the problem? I still haven’t heard any true distress going on.”

“Well,” she hesitated for far longer than Vegeta expected and he grew suspicious of what she was so timid to share.

Timid does not describe her. Because of this, he remained silent in waiting.

She began, “I didn’t want to tell you…” and then she paused again, but eventually explained, “Vegeta… The problem is… more of a _security_ thing. Safety… for myself and Bra. I don’t feel as safe as I did when you were around…”

Vegeta didn’t like hearing that, especially since he’d heard it before, and especially since he knew what she meant, and he agreed with her on that matter.

She admitted, “Just listen to me for a sec, and try not to lose your cool, okay?”

He couldn’t promise that, and he clenched his teeth as he prepared himself for whatever she was about to say.

“… A little while back, about a year or so ago, I had a party at Capsule Corp… You know how those go. Anyways, there was a security team that had been hired for my protection. The Preventors. Again, I know you’re aware of how all that works but…”

“But?”

She wouldn’t look at him. She said quietly, “Well, nothing’s ever happened… _before_ … not since that one time, but you were there back then and I—”

“What happened?” Vegeta growled, all too serious. He clenched his fist underneath the table and took a drink to steady his nerves. No one could help the men who tried to hurt his family if he ever gets his hands on them.

“Nothing!” Bulma assured him, her blue eyes coming look into his. She saw the look he was giving her. Dark and brooding, as usual. She hesitated, but explained, “The security team that was there that night was absolutely amazing. But the men… It all happened so fast, Vegeta. The head guy, though, the head Preventor, he was something else. He reminded me of you, actually.”

Vegeta tried to force himself to relax as she was talking but he could feel his eye twitching as he listened.

She took a drink and said, “I wanted to call you so badly when it happened, but I didn’t want to scare you…”

“What. Happened?” His blood began to boil.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, trying to play it off, but her gaze was now far away, “Like I said. The Preventors jumped in and took care of it quickly. Took them down and that was that. The head Preventor gave this sense of _comfort_ that I can’t explain. I continued to hire him after that, but he stepped down from the position a few months later. He’s trying to retire. Personal reasons. I tried to thank him for everything, but he acted like it was nothing. Like he was happy to do it. When I invited his family over to dinner, I tried to solicit him for a more private gig in the future, an under the table type of thing, you know, and he told me he would help me again, anytime, but I felt bad, considering the circumstances of why he’s trying to quit, and so we left it at that. That’s when I met Gohan, though, so some good has still come out of it. I don’t know, Vegeta, I just, I’ve been thinking about this a lot and—”

“Wait…” Vegeta’s brows drew together as he was putting the pieces of her broken story together, “What does Gohan have to do with what you were just talking about? And who the hell is this guy you’re so fond of now? The one who saved you?”

“Don’t go getting all jealous Vegeta,” She mocked, trying to make light of the situation. “it’s not like that. And I brought Gohan up because _he_ just so happens to be the man’s son.”

 _‘Kakarot?!’_ Vegeta’s eyes widened and his jaw slackened. He was speechless.

She was saying, “His name is Goku and he’s really the sweetest guy. We’ve become friends,” she shrugged, “if you could even call us that. He’s a bit of a recluse, actually. He was married for a long time, but his wife passed away from cancer a few years ago. He said he’s trying to cut back at work because he’s been missing out on more important things, like wanting to spend more time with his sons.” She smiled, “He really is something else. It’s no wonder Gohan and Goten are such good boys.”

“ _Goku_?!” Vegeta balked once he found his voice again.

“Have you met him?” She wondered, “I wasn’t sure if you had or not. You’re even more reclusive than him—”

Vegeta interrupted her again, still in shock, “ _He’s_ the one who saved you?!”

“Yes!” She told him, taking another drink to calm her own nerves. She explained, “He was amazing. It was just like watching _you_ fight. It was like he had this sixth sense or something. Like _you_. It was like he just _knew_ what to do and… I don’t know.” She sighed again, “I don’t know how you live like that, and I didn’t bother asking him about his past like I nagged you about it for so many years. But he’s very good at what he does. He and the others, Krillin and Tien, they were incredible. Anyways. I wished it didn’t have to be this way, but sometimes… Sometimes I’m scared, Vegeta… And sometimes I don’t know who I can trust anymore…”

“Bulma…” Vegeta said thickly, his already deep voice lowering in octave in his distress and he growled, “You should have told me.”

“Maybe I can _hire_ you?” she countered.

He tried to calm his nerves, but he couldn’t. He tried to make sense of what he’d just heard but he was pissed. And confused. And grateful. And _pissed_.

“Come on, Vegeta, it’s not a _bad_ idea…”

“Hire me?!” Vegeta rumbled, “ _Hire_ me to protect my own fucking _family_?!” his voice was now raising on its own accord, “If you needed me for something like that _you should have fucking told me!_ It’s not about _paying_ me to protect you! I’d protect you with my fucking life for _nothing_ but the pleasure of knowing that you’re safe!”

“Lower your voice.”

“ _Damn it,_ Bulma!”

“Vegeta, stop.”

He’d already hit the top of the table and knocked over both of their drinks, but he _was_ trying to calm down. People were looking.

This is why she wanted to have dinner. In public. So he’d have to control his temper. So he’d have to sit here and listen. So she knew that he wouldn’t just try to walk away. Not that he would. She knew he’d hear her out about this. She just wanted him to be calm about it.

Bulma whispered, “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew how upset you’d be.”

“You didn’t want to tell me because nothing too serious happened…” Vegeta argued quietly, “And you didn’t want to tell me because you know what I’ll do if I ever find those motherfuckers. And you didn’t want to tell me because you know that even though I might _want to be_ , I can’t be there for you all the time because _I_ fucked it up between us.”

“Vegeta,” she started, but a waiter was already coming by to clean up the table. His manager was behind him.

The manager asked, eyeing Vegeta suspiciously, “Is everything alright, Ms. Briefs?”

“Yes,” she told him, hardly even looking at him. Her eyes were glued to Vegeta’s as she said, “Everything is fine. I’ll take the check.”

“No,” Vegeta disputed, not bothering to look at the manager, either. “I’ll take it.”

“Vegeta…” she frowned.

“I said. I’ll take it.”

“Very well, sir.”

Vegeta paid and then he escorted Bulma out of the building with as much poise as he possibly could, but they said nothing to one another on their way out.

Once outside, however, Bulma turned to him and remarked, “Why did you pay for dinner like that? I offered to take _you_ out, Vegeta.”

He didn’t even want to look at her. He couldn’t. It hurt too much. So, he didn’t, but he gently grabbed her arm and urged her towards her limo.

“Vegeta, stop this and say something,” she begged.

He growled, still not looking at her, “You want to _pay_ for my dinner? You want to _pay_ me to come watch over you and our daughter? You want to _hire_ me to protect you?!” He finally turned to her as they came to the limo door, and he whispered harshly, lifting her chin up to face him, “I don’t want your money.”

“I _know_ , but I—”

“You should have told me what happened a long time ago…” He let go of her arm as her driver got out to come and get the door for her. He and glared at the man to get back inside the car. He did. Then Vegeta turned to Bulma and said, “Let me know when you arrive at home. And let me _know_ next time…” He didn’t finish that thought before he opened the door and ordered, “Get in.”

She pursed her lips but did as she was told. Once inside, Bulma looked up at him. “Vegeta…” she said gently, her eyes beginning to brim with fresh tears that he knew weren’t the first of their kind.

“I don’t want your money, Bulma,” he told her, stepping back so he could close the door, “I never did.”

“Vegeta!”

But he closed the door and tapped on the roof, alerting the driver to go.


	6. 6

6

Vegeta had gotten arrested after his dinner with Bulma that night. Of course, he didn’t tell anyone that, although he has a suspicion that Trunks knows.

He shouldn’t have gone to the bar after his discussion with Bulma, but he couldn’t go back home in the rage that he was in and chance Trunks seeing him like that and asking him why when he _knew_ he’d gone to dinner with his mother. And he supposed, if he’s being honest, he went out looking for trouble. The poor guy who rubbed him the wrong way must have just had it coming, though. Karma, or some shit. Vegeta _might have_ provoked him into making the first strike, but the guy should have had more self-control, because Vegeta sure doesn’t.

Luckily for him the other man had a worse rap sheet than he did, and a warrant out for his arrest, and since Vegeta ended up knowing the cop that had come to the 911 call, he more or less got out of it with mostly just a warning and a place to sleep off his inebriation and think things over. He tried to think, but since most of his fellow disgruntled inmates spent all their time talking his ear off, he hardly got the chance to focus on his own problems. It took everything in him not to strike out on one of them, although he did threaten them, but sober at that point, and considering the repercussions, he managed to not get himself into any more trouble. It helped that one of the inmates recognized him and told the others to steer clear of him.

All in all, the whole ordeal was more trouble than it was worth. Since he was booked over the weekend, he wasn’t able to get out of jail until Monday morning. He got to his car and then home, and he cleaned up as fast as he could, but he was still late to work and fired as a result. Apparently, they were looking for a reason to fire him. He couldn’t be too mad about it. That job sucked, anyways. He’ll still get his Christmas bonus and one more check, so it wasn’t all bad.

Obviously, he didn’t tell anyone about that, either, but Trunks seemed to stare at him a little harder every time he was around, and Vegeta got the feeling his son was suspicious of his unemployment, as well, try as he might to hide it.

It was back to sleepless nights and overcompensating for his lack of a schedule with too much booze and too many long workouts to try and clear his mind in between looking for a job and a good fuck. He wasn’t very successful in either department. There weren’t any offices hiring right now, as the year was ending, and the sex he did have was only satisfactory.

He couldn’t help but grow angry over his circumstances. Thoughts he didn’t want to be having kept creeping into his head- especially the reoccurring thoughts of just leaving, saying goodbye to his family and never seeing them again. He just felt like the more he tried to take a step in the right direction, he wound up walking straight into more trouble.

Going to see Bulma for dinner should not have resulted in him angrily assaulting someone, but the subject she’d brought up was a sore spot for Vegeta, and he didn’t know how to curb his anger properly, even after all these years.

It had been a long time since he thought about the night that he’d fought that man that had tried to shoot Bulma. It _was_ some time ago. He remembered the terror in her eyes, and she doesn’t scare easily. Vegeta saw red and completely blacked out. The next thing he knew he heard sirens. Vegeta had thought that the paramedics had been called for the perpetrator, some asshole hired to murder the Capsule Corp. heiress under some bribe, but it had been for them both. He’d been stabbed, badly. He didn’t even feel it. The other man was dead before the ambulance ever arrived.

Talk about news reports needing to be swept under the rug. Vegeta was well within his rights to protect his family, though.

Vegeta had been the one that insisted that Bulma start hiring bodyguards whenever she has an event long before that ever happened. She’d gotten threats before, but she was never bothered by them. She never took him, or them, seriously, insisting that their security at home was enough. She learned the hard way after that. Since the publicity of the man’s death had been such big news, things had been quiet for some time. It wasn’t but a few years after that when they split up, and Vegeta, though weary, had hoped he’d sent a message by killing that man to any other wise guys out there with bad ideas. Apparently, the message hadn’t been received.

Capsule Corp. sure got better at hiding things, though.

He realized that, by default of him not being there, and too many hungry crooks in the world, he was essentially the one who wound up getting Kakarot hired by her. Vegeta was having a hard time grasping that and accepting it. He hadn’t even known the man a few months ago and now it feels like he’s in every corner of his life, welcomed by everyone around him. Although uninvited by himself, he’s somehow still _there_. Vegeta didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Should he be grateful to him? Should he mention it? He couldn’t fathom _not_ saying something, but Kakarot certainly didn’t bring it up…

At least the man hasn’t called him again. Even _if_ he really wanted to see him again, even if only just to give that man a piece of his mind for _not_ telling him about the situation, or to ask him a few questions about said event, he knew that it would be a bad idea. He was sort of angry with him, and he was definitely annoyed by him. He just couldn’t believe that the man had saved his wife and daughter’s life a year ago and he hadn’t even known anything about it! And now his son and Goten have become rather close, and his _other_ son is working for his _ex-wife_.

Vegeta knew that the man was bound to show up again and try to talk to him at some point, and although he thought about giving the man a call more than once, he decided to put it off as long as possible. He wanted to know more about him and about what had happened, but he didn’t want to spend the time to get to know him. He’s insufferable eye-candy at best. Hot? Absolutely. Talented at fighting? Definitely. But way too mild-tempered and casual for Vegeta’s tastes. Any extended hand on Vegeta’s part would surely invoke an open-door invitation he wasn’t sure he’d be able to shut again, and he preferred the people he had relationships with, the few that he has, to be kept at an ocean’s distance.

Time kept on ticking. The days go slow but the months fly by, and it was Christmas day before he knew it. He didn’t know what was so jolly about it. He had some gifts for his kids thanks to his on the whim shopping spree, but he didn’t get anything for Bulma like a jackass, not that he could afford anything that she might want (and not that she can’t get it for herself). It still made him feel worse than he already did.

He was in an even less talkative mood than usual the whole time he was visiting. Bra clung to him when she wasn’t obsessing over her presents, Trunks was all smiles in being near his mother, and Bulma, who seemed more interested in talking to Vegeta than not, kept asking him all her normal questions, but he just wasn’t in the mood for any of it.

She sensed something was wrong, but when was it right? Vegeta remained quiet and withdrawn, but when they were alone for a few minutes, Bulma pressed him again about coming over more often, and about the protection thing. He just didn’t want to hear it. As much as wanted to be there, he knew that he had a target on his back, too, for different reasons that she did, and in being there, it would only put her in more danger. She couldn’t understand that, but of course, he never said it, either. An argument ensued. He left her house early that afternoon, foregoing their family dinner.

He went straight home. There was nowhere else he could have gone anyways, and he needed to be alone to think things over, not that it helped. No matter how many times he went over his problems, he never got any answers.

A week later New Year’s Day came and went, and he spent most of his time looking for a job in hopes of finding one before they had to move. Again.

Trunks’ suspicions of him were boiling over into verbal territory and that was never a good thing. Ever since he didn’t come home that ill-fated Saturday night, or at all that following Sunday with little to no alibi, Trunks had been throwing remarks his way about where he’s been and what he’s been doing. Vegeta figured, at this point, that Trunks knew that he’d gone to jail for sure. After all, it’s public record if anyone bothered to look it up. Vegeta would have to pay to get that removed (again), and he would, soon, but it wouldn’t change the facts.

The damn kid is just too smart for his own good. Smart like his mother, and more level-headed than himself. For that, at least, he was grateful.

Another restless week went by, which included another fight with Trunks over not going to school, another binge on alcohol and nightly escapes that amounted to nothing, another heated debate with Bulma over his shortcomings as a father, and Vegeta was over all of it. Now, it was mid-morning, and he was hungover and in the middle of firing off emails with his resume at home at the kitchen table, when he got a message on his phone.

 **Kakarot** : Hey!

Vegeta stared at it for some time, blinked, and then stared some more. He must be hallucinating.

He put his phone to the side and shook it off. Surely it was just a mistake on Kakarot’s part. He hadn’t texted or called in some time. He went back to typing, but his phone went off again.

 **Kakarot** : Wanna Spar?

Vegeta stared at his phone again, his lips parting slowly as he considered the words on the screen.

What’s it been, two, three weeks since they’d last talked?

Kakarot must really be lonely. He must really not have any friends. He must really be _out of his mind_ to want to see Vegeta again.

Vegeta didn’t reply and went back to typing. A few minutes went by and he willed himself to think of something else, anything else, but the temptation was still there. A spar does sound good. And it didn’t seem like such a terrible idea… To see him again… Even if he is so infuriating…

Which reminds him…

 **Vegeta** : When?

 **Kakarot** : Now?

 _‘Now?!’_ Vegeta felt his heart racing. He wasn’t expecting that, or Kakarot’s rapid-fire response. He should say no, but then he’d be turning down a challenge. He could act busy, but he literally just texted him. He could stall, but he has nothing else going on. He could put him off until later, but then he’ll just end up thinking about it until then. He could tell him he’s not interested, but _he is_.

He should do _something_ other than agree to his offer, but his adrenaline was starting to kick in at the idea of fighting him and the promise of getting some of this aggression out of his system. Then the idea of discussing the situation that had arisen at Capsule Corp., the one that Kakarot had apparently controlled and dominated, came to his mind.

 **Vegeta** : Give me half an hour

 **Kakarot** : I’ll be there 😊

Vegeta didn’t bother replying to that. He just turned off his computer, grabbed his things and headed out. It wouldn’t take him but twenty minutes to get there, he knew, but at least it would give him some time to pep talk himself into going inside.

He still felt like shit from having drank too much the night before, but he figured he could sweat it out and take out some of his frustrations at the same time. If Kakarot wanted to spar, then he wasn’t going to turn him down, although Vegeta couldn’t help but wonder if this is the best decision to make right now. He’d told himself he didn’t want to see him again so soon, and he isn’t exactly in the best of moods.

This was a _wonderful_ idea.

He could throw a punch and not worry about being arrested for it. He could feel the rush of physical exertion and not have to feel guilty about how he was getting it. He could take a hit and not wonder if he was being judged about how he felt about it. And what’s more, he relished in all of it.

Kakarot wasn’t bad to look at either. Vegeta was reminded of that every time he laid eyes on him. Like he could ever forget. Even his absence couldn’t dull his image. The man is ridiculously attractive, and the more Vegeta saw of him, the more he wanted to see. Aside from that, Kakarot wasn’t a bad sparring partner, either, but Vegeta would never share either of those compliments with the other man, and he intended to try and keep this about the spar as much as possible.

He wondered briefly if Kakarot felt the same way about him. When it came to their spar. There’s an intensity in his eyes that Vegeta had noticed the first time they’d done this. He had wondered for some time afterwards if perhaps he had been mistaken about seeing it, if maybe he’d made it up, but now he knew he wasn’t imagining things. Kakarot is every bit as maniacal as him under this type of stimulation. He’s every bit as brutal, and he’s even _serious_ while they spar, not so _happy_ as he usually seems.

But Kakarot is also more talented than him, and this time around Vegeta had to acknowledge it. He hated to admit it but couldn’t deny it all the same. The man is better than him. Just a little bit stronger, just a little bit faster, and clearly experienced, but without the desperation in his hits that Vegeta often fights with. The only edge Vegeta has on the man is his inventiveness, which results sheerly out of necessity, and even that skill is something that Kakarot’s learning fast. Hell, he’s surprised Vegeta with his skill a few times already.

Yes, the man is better than him. Vegeta found it maddening. He was reminded of how Bulma had compared the two of them. He couldn’t help but agree, but he didn’t appreciate the similarities like she did.

 _‘Where’d you learn to fight like that?... Like your life depends on it…’_ That’s what Kakarot had asked him during their lunch a couple months ago.

 _‘What would you know about fighting for your life, Kakarot?’_ That was Vegeta’s response.

Apparently, Kakarot knows more about it than that wholesome smile of his leads on.

Who the hell **is** this guy?

Vegeta’s reflections began taking him dark places. He simply has too much on his mind to ignore his inner voice screaming to be heard. He has too much going on that needs to be taken care of outside of this match. He tried to shut it all off, but as his thoughts whirled, he distractedly brawled with Kakarot, growing angrier by the second every time he threw a punch.

He thought of Bulma and what they’d talked about. He thought of the faceless, nameless men who’d attacked his family. Even the recognition that it was _Kakarot_ that he was fighting and not _the men responsible_ still made his frustration spark exponentially.

Kakarot was able to save his family when he wasn’t. He hadn’t even mentioned it! He wasn’t even going to tell him that he’d been the one to save their lives, was he?! 

“Vegeta!” Goku called out, distracting him from his runaway feelings, “Enough! It’s just a spar!”

Vegeta didn’t want to hear that, though. He needed more of _this_. More violence. More physical pain to match his inner turmoil. Distraught, he began making strikes meant to maim not check.

What was he going to accomplish by taking this too far, though? He didn’t know.

He knows that what he really craves is peace, even though he’ll _never_ have it. He doesn’t know how to _voice_ that need, in any case, and he doesn’t see a point in trying. All he knows is how to exhaust his life-long frustrations out of himself until they wind themselves up inside of him into another ball of energy, waiting to be released all over again. Waiting for him to snap. Waiting for him to fuck up.

It’s only a matter of time before he messes up again. It’s always only a matter of time.

His back hit the mat before he knew what had happened, and Goku was on top of him again, locking him into place. He was going to choke him out if he had to.

“Vegeta! Tap out!” he cried above him.

Vegeta struggled and struggled, but eventually he realized where he was and rational thought came back to him and he conceded with the tap of his hand, just short of forcing Kakarot into making him pass out simply because he was too stubborn to give in.

Goku fell to the side and spent some time catching his breath while Vegeta struggled to find his own.

“Sheesh,” Goku panted, “What the hell took over you just now, Vegeta?”

Vegeta never replied. He was slightly dazed and staring at the ceiling. The room was spinning but he fought it off.

Goku was watching him closely and he swiped a forearm over his head, wiping away the sweat there, before he said, “You’re so… intense… and I… I am trying to keep up with you, but it’s like I can’t get a reading on where your mind is. At first, I think,” he sighed, still catching his breath, “It’s like you’re playing around with me, and everything is fine, and then something inside of you gives way and you just… go for the kill… You tried to do it last time, but not as bad… We’re just sparring, Vegeta. It’s not life or death.”

Vegeta finally looked over at him and pondered his words as he considered his own actions. He looked away without responding.

Goku huffed, offering, “I know it’s a fight, but it doesn’t have to be about winning or losing, you know?”

Vegeta looked at him again. He couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head. The ones that got him nearly choked out. That wasn’t making it any better. He sat up and said with an edge to his voice that couldn’t be helped, “When were you going to tell me, Kakarot?”

Goku drew his brows together in confusion and wondered, “What are you talking about?”

He replied heatedly, “When were you going to tell me about you and my ex-wife?”

“Huh?!”

Even though it took everything out of him, he yelled, “Don’t play dumb with me!”

Confusion was eminent on his face as he tried to respond, “Vegeta, I—”

“The incident with Bulma and my daughter, Kakarot!”

Recognition flashed through Goku’s eyes.

“Were you just not going to tell me that you and your men saved their lives?!”

“I—”

“What are you? Some kind of fucking _trained assassin_?!”

“No! I’m not- I mean,” Goku fumbled, then, shaking his head, he tried, “Wait, Vegeta, I—”

Vegeta stood to his feet and walked over to grab some water, grumbling to himself and stumbling a little. Still he argued, “You _weren’t_ going to tell me. Is that it? What, is there some sort of client confidentiality clause? She’s my ex, not my enemy!” he spun around, pointing at him, “It’s my fucking daughter we’re talking about! I have a right to know!”

Standing up, following him, and grabbing some water for himself, Goku said, “I didn’t know that you didn’t know about that…”

Vegeta tensed, “What has this whole thing been about?” he gestured between them, “Why have you been inviting me to spar with you? Has this all been some sort of way to gauge _my_ abilities?! To judge me?!”

“Wha??! N-no…”

“I’m not some fucking weakling who can’t defend his own family!”

“I never… thought that…”

“And the only reason she even called you is because _I wasn’t_ _there_!”

Goku threw up his hands and exclaimed, “Alright! Okay!”

Vegeta grunted and finished off his bottle of water, feeling overheated and overwhelmed.

“I think we just need to take a minute to chill out,” Goku sighed.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Vegeta spat, but he was feeling weak from over-exerting himself. He sat down onto the bench as gracefully as he could to continue to catch his breath, but he felt his heart rate rising dangerously.

“Vegeta,” Goku frowned, “I promise, nothing happened. Those men didn’t touch them. They didn’t even come close.” He shook his head again, walking a few paces away before he turned back and added, “I don’t understand… Why are you upset?”

Vegeta yelled, “Of course you don’t get it! I wouldn’t expect you to! You’re not the one who didn’t know that his family was in danger! And there was nothing I could do about it!”

Goku turned to face him more fully as he said, “I get that. I do. But why are you mad at _me_?”

Vegeta jeered and put his head in his hands. _Is_ he mad at him? Of course, not.

He knew he was becoming extremely angry over _nothing_ , and even he didn’t understand himself sometimes. Sometimes he just wanted to argue. Sometimes he just wanted to point the finger at someone and blame them for his own shortcomings. Sometimes he just wanted to talk but he didn’t know how to bring up his problems in something of a more casual conversation. There’s nothing casual about his emotions and try as he might to deny that he has them, he couldn’t, it was too damn blatant that he _did_ , and it was tearing him apart inside.

He was just mad that _he_ wasn’t there for Bulma and Bra. Mad that he _isn’t_ there for them. Mad that he _can’t be there_ because he knows that he shouldn’t waste their time.

And mad because he’s afraid. Afraid that if he _had been,_ maybe he wouldn’t have been able to stop those men by himself.

He’s mad that he ever met Kakarot. He’s mad that he’s been so nice to him for no reason. He’s mad that he’s better than him, at being a father, at taking care of his family, at _fighting_.

Fighting is one of the only things that he’s ever liked about himself, as sad as that sounds. It’s one of the things that has kept him alive. Kept him going.

He’d been hoping the first time they’d fought had just been a fluke, and that when he’d out maneuvered him onto the ground in the grocery store parking lot that he’d just been taken off guard, but he was wrong.

He’s mad that he’s a failure. At everything. He can’t hold a job. He can’t hold onto a marriage. He can’t do relationships, period. Even with his family, who he’s bound to by blood. Even his own family before _them_ didn’t want him. Now, on the verge of having to move again, with no job, and no prospects, well no _valid_ prospects, he’s in danger of losing the only good things in his life because of all the bad in his life. All the bad in _him_.

All he has is his pride in the few things that he _is_ good at, and even those things, he’s realized, he’s still not that fucking great at.

“Vegeta?”

The over-working of his body was finally catching up to him now that he was sitting still. His head began to spin. He felt hot. Too hot. He needs more water. He can’t catch his breath. His hearts pounding in his chest. He’s going to pass out.

“Vegeta?!”

When he woke up his head was pounding, and he couldn’t remember much. He clenched his eyes together to numb the headache as he tried to wake up some more. He knew he was lying in bed, but he didn’t remember going home.

He groaned and rolled over, reaching for his nightstand to grab his phone. His hand missed. He opened his eyes.

Groggily, his mind registered something startling. _‘This… is not my room…’_ He panicked and sat up, looking around abruptly. _‘Where the fuck am I?!’_

The door to the bedroom opened and his head snapped in its direction, waiting for whoever was about to enter.

“Hey!” Goku smiled at him.

“Kakarot!” Vegeta croaked, his throat was coarse and dry.

“I’m glad you’re awake! Drink one of those waters I put by the bed. It’ll help. And I brought you something to eat, too,” he lifted the plate in his hand in a warm gesture, “It’s not much, just a sandwich, but you need to put something on your stomach. Especially after passing out like that.”

Vegeta held onto his head for a moment before swiping his hand down his face.

Goku came nearer, picking up one of the waters on the nightstand opposite of the side Vegeta had reached out before and handing it to him.

Vegeta took it and chugged it, deciding that his body needed it more than his pride wanted to deny it, but he recoiled from Goku instinctually.

“You had me worried…” Goku smiled again, and something had softened in his features between earlier this afternoon and now.

“I’m fine,” Vegeta growled stubbornly.

Goku let out a bit of a nervous chuckle as he said, “Good. I, uh, I hope you don’t mind that I brought you back to my place. I figured it wasn’t serious enough to take you to the hospital and I didn’t just want to drop you off at your place with no explanation about what happened. Plus…”

Vegeta squinted at him, his memory slowly coming back to him. He hadn’t realized he’d been so exhausted. He really shouldn’t have pushed himself so hard since he was already hungover, but that’s just what he does.

“I,” Goku told him, still explaining, “Well, to be honest, I didn’t think you’d call anytime soon to tell me you were alright if I just took you home. So, I wanted to make sure for myself…”

Vegeta blinked and stared at him, embarrassed. Embarrassed doesn’t cover it. “You worry too much,” he muttered.

“Ah, nooo, I don’t,” Goku smiled, but he looked guilty. “Here, eat this,” he pushed, handing him the plate he’d brought with him, practically forcing it into his hands.

“How long was I out?” Vegeta grumbled, taking the plate from him and eyeing the food.

“Not too long. About twenty minutes. I don’t live far from the gym, and I headed here shortly after…”

Vegeta couldn’t reply. He still felt like shit and his mortification over this new predicament wasn’t helping anything.

“Drink some more water,” Goku told him, rushing out his words as he took a step away from him, “And try to get some rest.”

“I’m not—”

“I’ll leave you alone for a little bit, but I’m right outside if you need anything.” He left quickly, closing the door behind him.

Vegeta watched him go and stared at the door for some time after he’d left. He thought he was going to be sick. He felt depleted. Defeated. Sore and confused and, even though he didn’t want to admit it, tired.

Had Kakarot _carried him_?! That thought alone was nauseating. He laid back down, even as he told himself that he needed to get up. He threw an arm over his face a groaned in frustration, willing his headache to go away. Where are his things? He just wanted to get the hell out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking to a guy friend of mine about DB Super earlier today, we were discussing the newest arc being finished and the promise of the next one, and how I'm terrible because I haven't watched it lol then we got into talking about DBZ A and all that jazz when somehow we got onto the subject of fanfiction and fancomics etc. 
> 
> When he showed interest and said that he's read a few stories himself, I mentioned that I write in the fandom but I told him he wouldn't be interested in reading anything I've written because I'm a fan of the Goku/Vegeta lore. Without blinking, he replied, "Oh, yeah they're gay for each other. No doubt about it. They're definitely lovers." 
> 
> I about died laughing. I just thought you guys might appreciate the fact that even a straight man can't deny that there's something going on between those two :) :) :)


	7. 7

7

Flashes of memories swaddled him as he slept. Nightmares, mostly. They didn’t bother him much anymore, but it had been a long time since he’d had any so vivid.

Street fights he nearly died in resulting in so many scars. Images of his dad, his mother had hardly been around, she had died when he was young, but he could still hear his father’s voice. His disdain. Orphanages, one after the other. Kids, bullies, most of them. Thugs, drug addicts. Death. Streets and alley ways. It was always so cold. More fights. Counselors, therapists. Constant brushes with death, but he was always too stubborn to give in. His father walking out on him; giving him up; 8 years old. His little brother, dead. There was nothing he could do about it. And it was always so cold.

He wakes up gasping for breath. He recognizes that he’s in Kakarot’s room and inhales deeply, steadying his heartrate, as he tries to separate the pieces of his dreams from his reality.

He remembers eating the sandwich Kakarot gave him and drinking some water. He remembers laying back down and telling himself that he needed to get up; that he needs to get out of here. He must have fallen back asleep on accident, and fucking Kakarot just let him sleep here. in _his_ bedroom.

He gets up and looks around briefly, still tired, but needing to get out of bed to ensure that he’s not just going to fall back asleep again. He noticed more water placed out for him, and more food. He takes one of the waters and drinks it all, but he can’t bring himself to touch the food- he’s too stubborn.

He’s still in his workout gear, and upon getting up, he notices that he smells like sweat. A chill begins clinging to his body now that he’s not under the covers. He supposed he at least _felt_ moderately better than he did the first time he woke up, regardless of how he must look. Damn if he isn’t sore, though.

He surveyed the mildly cluttered room, trying to find his phone, or his gym bag, something that belonged to him, but there was no sign of his things anywhere, only Kakarot’s belongings. It looked like he’d picked up just enough to make it _seem_ like he had his things organized, but it was all either stacked in piles or poorly put away.

Vegeta didn’t bother snooping, he looked in the mirror briefly and ran a hand through his unkempt hair, trying to straighten himself out somewhat, before he heads to the bedroom door and opens it quietly. He hoped to make his escape unnoticed, but he doesn’t think he’ll be successful as several random thoughts begin running through his mind in no particular order. What time is it? He’s never been to Kakarot’s house. He doesn’t know where he’s going. Where _is_ Kakarot? He’s hungry. How long had he slept? Where are his things?

He hears a TV on and sees the light coming off of it from down the hall. He heads towards the noise discretely, shivering slightly. He peeks his head around the corner as he comes to the end of the hall. He doesn’t see anyone. The lights are mostly off. It’s hard to tell what time it is.

His thoughts are now compounding: He doesn’t know where his phone is. He doesn’t have his car here! Where are his keys? His gym bag? His wallet? _Where is_ _Kakarot_?

Damn it.

He walks further into the room and realizes that he can hear light snoring coming from the couch. He comes closer to it and peers over to find Kakarot’s sleeping form. He lets out a brief snort. He couldn’t help but think, yet again, that the man certainly is handsome, and he looks so peaceful laying there, undisturbed. Definitely not like any trained fighter Vegeta had ever seen.

He almost didn’t want to wake him, but he needed to leave.

He looked around as he considered that maybe he can find his things without waking him, then he could call a cab to take him back to the gym.

But where is Goten? He might be home, and the _last_ thing he needs is for Goten to find him here, in the middle of the night, or whatever fucking time it is.

After surveying the area briefly and noticing that Kakarot’s house looked very… lived in, not necessarily messy, but not well kept either, Vegeta decided that he was wasting enough time and that he had no choice but to wake the other man up. He walked over to the other side of the couch and shook him gently. “Kakarot…” he whispered.

The man was solid to the touch and he didn’t budge.

“Kakarot! Wake up!” Vegeta tried again, speaking a little louder, but still being quiet. He didn’t want to bring on Goten’s attention if he is here.

Goku hardly stirred.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, but he supposed he wasn’t trying very hard. He reached out towards his face, and while initially his intentions had been to gently pat his cheek to rouse him, Vegeta found himself brushing his fingers gently through his bangs for a moment before his hand traced the side of Goku’s temple and down to his jaw.

So damn handsome. Even his snoring isn’t all _that_ annoying.

Vegeta dismissed that thought. As nice as it has been to look at him like this, without any unwarranted or misplaced words coming out of his mouth, and without him _aware_ of Vegeta’s attentions, it isn’t safe. They might not be alone, and his attraction to the man doesn’t need any encouragement.

He patted his cheek a few times, perhaps a little aggressively. “Kakarot!” he growled quietly. “Damn it, wake _up_!”

“Hmm?” Goku shifted, squeezing his eyes tight before finally opening them. “Oh!” he blinked as he became more aware, and he smiled up at him dreamily, “Hey, Vegeta. You’re awake! How’re ya feeling?”

Taking a step back to get away from him and shove his emotions even further down inside of him, Vegeta demanded quietly, “It’s about damn time you woke up. Where are my things?” 

“Oh, uhhh,” Goku sat up and yawned and then looked around, clearly still groggy.

Vegeta felt immensely uncomfortable. Goku was nothing but casual and serene and Vegeta was not. He knew that he _should_ be saying ‘ _thank you_ ,’ but he didn’t, instead he growled, still trying to keep his voice low, “Kakarot, did you even bring my things with you when you kidnapped me?”

“Yeah,” Goku smiled up at him, laughing a little, “I just remembered! I left your stuff in my car.”

“What?!” Vegeta whispered back, thinking that he was talking entirely too loudly.

“Yeah,” Goku confirmed, standing up and stretching, and Vegeta watched as the shirt he wore rose a little, exposing some skin. “And I wouldn’t say I kidnapped you…”

Vegeta took another step back from him, trying to relax but failing. Trying to resist his unsolicited thoughts about the other man but having a hard time ignoring them.

Goku added, “I forgot to go back to grab your stuff after I brought you inside,” he picked up his phone, checking it for a moment. Looking back down at him, he said, “I really only cared about getting you in bed.”

Vegeta laughed a little bit at that, sort of a hysterical type of quick chuckle, one from utter disbelief, that he cut off as soon as it escaped his lips.

Goku was saying, as he was glancing at his phone again, “Hmm, it’s still kind of early.” His eyes slid back to him and he added, with his usual youthful enthusiasm, “Hey, I bet you’re starving!”

“Yes!” Vegeta reply quietly, “And I need my things! I have to go!”

Goku nodded absentmindedly, but cocked his head to the side a little bit as he said, “Why are you whispering?”

Eyes widening, Vegeta started, “I-”

“No one’s here,” he smiled, interrupting cheerily, “Goten went home with Trunks after school. They’re back at your place, I think,” he shrugged, “I didn’t really ask, and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“??!” Vegeta was surprised to hear that but he didn’t know what to say in response _. ‘We’re… alone?’_ he thought.

“Why don’t you hang out here with me for a bit?” Goku offered, and he walked past him smiling, heading for the door.

Vegeta’s shoulders tensed. He tried immediately to decline, “I don’t—”

But Kakarot was saying, “I’ll order in some food for us. I have a really good Italian place on speed dial. I think you should eat something before you leave, yeah? Relax a little.”

Vegeta turned to argue but when he did, he saw that Goku was putting on a jacket and grabbing his keys, his phone up to his ear, as he’d already dialed the number to the restaurant he’d mentioned.

Goku told him, “Let me get your things out of the car really quick. I’m sure you want to change. You’re probably cold. You can take a shower, too, if you want.”

“Kakarot, n—” Vegeta tried to disagree.

“I’ll be right back,” Goku smiled, “Hang tight.”

 _‘Shit!’_ Vegeta thought. He couldn’t even get a word in! Kakarot is just too damn… _‘Perfect.’_

Perfectly well-meaning guys like him and douche bag men like Vegeta just don’t work together, on any level. Under any circumstances.

Vegeta stood there, with his thoughts surrounding him as he tried his best to _not_ look completely out of place and to _not_ just stand there shivering in the middle of Goku’s living room, but he knew he wasn’t do a good job of it. He tried to think of what to do _now_ but he couldn’t seem to piece his thoughts together beyond his very private lusting over the man fighting with his equally insistent disdain for him.

How did he let himself get into such a dilemma? Even if it’s all in his head.

“Woo! It’s cold out there,” Goku said. He’d come back quickly, and he handed him his bag, which he’d conveniently placed everything inside of, as he told him, “Go ahead and make yourself at home! There’s a shower down that way! Or there’s one in my bedroom if you’d rather use it. Sorry my house is a wreck. It’s nowhere near as clean as yours, but-”

Vegeta visibly tensed but grunted, “Fine,” to shut him up as he grabbed his things from him and took him up on his offer if only to have a moment to himself.

“Last door at the end of the hall!” Goku called after him as he headed down the hall quickly.

Once inside, he checked his phone. No messages, and Kakarot was right, it was still early, only 5:45 at night. Damn, how long did they spar? How long had he slept? He really shouldn’t have overworked himself like that.

 _‘One thing at a time, Vegeta,’_ he told himself. He turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up as he considered his options for leaving without being _completely_ rude. Once he stepped into the shower, he was unable to come up with anything he thought would get him out of here any time soon. He didn’t really want to call a cab and waste the money, but he certainly didn’t think he’d be able to stomach hanging around Kakarot for any length of time so _intimately._

The shower was nice, and he felt immensely better once he got out, but his stomach was in knots. What was he going to say to Kakarot when he faced him again? He couldn’t believe he’d passed out like that. After going off on him. Again.

He dressed back in his normal attire, a nice long-sleeve shirt with well fitted pants, and he put his shoes on, too, as a means of saying, at least to himself, that he didn’t plan on staying long. He thought about calling Trunks to check up on him, but when the hell had he ever done that?

He shook off the lingering feeling of discomfort and exited the bathroom slowly, carrying his bag with him as he stalked down the hall, taking his time. The lights were on now, and Goku’s house felt a few degrees warmer and looked cozy and welcoming as he stepped through it. Pictures on the walls of family and friends. Clothing left in random places. Shoes by the door. Doors open to rooms that looked used and decorated with personal items.

Vegeta sort of wished he’d spent more time in Kakarot’s room looking around a bit before he went to find him, but he pushed that idea aside, too. No good would have come from it, anyways.

He could hear the TV on, still, the sound low, just background noise. Goku wasn’t in the living room, though. He heard some noise coming from the kitchen. He decided to drop his bag by the front door before he turned and walked as confidently as he could in the direction of the sound, heading towards the dining room, which was on the opposite side of where it is in his own home. Everything about Kakarot’s house was the opposite of his own, he noticed. 

He was expecting to find Kakarot’s kitchen a bit of a wreck, simply because everything else in this house was barely passable, although somehow pleasantly charming, and he braced himself for the awkward conversation with the man that was sure to come. When he rounded the corner and found the dining room and kitchen, Kakarot was standing in the midst thereof pulling glasses out of a cabinet. Vegeta noted that both rooms were pretty nice. Much larger than his own, and it looked just like the rest of the house, as he’d suspected, used, but not entirely littered.

“Hey!” Goku said upon spotting him.

Vegeta could only take in their surroundings as he tried his best not to stare at him. Is he really going to stay for dinner?

“Would you like some wine?” Goku offered, grabbing a bottle off of a shelf. “It might help you fall sleep again later. I took a nap, too, and I hate when my sleep schedule gets thrown off.”

Vegeta stubbornly told himself, _‘Don’t take the wine,’_ and he continued to avoid eye contact, although he couldn’t stop himself from looking him over for a split second. For someone as strong as he is, he’s somehow still gentle, and Vegeta couldn’t help but watch the way the man’s hands moved as he cleaned the lip of some wine glasses with a cloth.

Goku finally caught his eyes with his own and smiled. He opened the bottle he’d chosen with ease, and then he poured and handed him a glass, which Vegeta took instinctually.

Goku poured one for himself, and said, “Cheers,” all smiles.

Vegeta felt something imploding inside of him as he watched Kakarot take a drink. He took a sip of the wine as well, but looked away, determined to stop studying him and instead study everything around them.

Goku was talking, but he wasn’t really listening. Something about eating at the table, something else about clearing some space. Vegeta didn’t care, he was too busy trying to chase down his emotions with the wine and piece together an escape while Goku was bustling around him. He didn’t bother to keep up with what he was saying or doing in the slightest.

This whole thing is just too weird; him being here, them having dinner together, especially considering the circumstances of how this came about. Kakarot made the occasion feel personal, and while Vegeta imagined himself to be intruding and out of place, Kakarot remained considerate and carefree. He was offering for him to spend time with him in his own home, in such a private place, and Vegeta couldn’t figure out why he was doing it.

Vegeta just didn’t get what was going on, he didn’t get _him_ , and he couldn’t feel at ease. He took another long drink, trying to calm his nerves.

“… What do you think?” he suddenly heard Kakarot asking.

Vegeta glanced over at him, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t even know what the question was.

Goku wasn’t bothered, apparently the question had been rhetorical. He was now urging him to have a seat next to him at the table. Vegeta instead opted to sit across from him, he needed to keep his distance, and he drank some more and tried to will the food to come faster. Even if he did call a cab, he’d still be stuck here with him for some time.

Goku told him, “I called Goten while you were in the shower. He said they’re playing video games at your place.”

Being brought out of his musings, Vegeta scoffed, “You believed him?”

Goku blinked, “Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

Vegeta ignored the question with a smirk as he took another sip of wine. He wondered as an afterthought, “Did you tell him I was here?”

“No,” Goku admitted.

Vegeta took another drink, grateful to hear that.

“Here,” Goku said, grabbing the bottle he’d brought with him, “Drink all you want,” and he poured more wine into his glass before he could decline it, and then he poured the rest of the bottle into his own cup. Then he said, “It’s alright, though, isn’t it?” At Vegeta silence he added, “For Goten to be at your place, even if they aren’t playing video games like he said.” He looked up at Vegeta for confirmation but when he didn’t get a response he shrugged and asked good humoredly, “What do you think they’re doing?”

Vegeta didn’t know. He just always assumed Trunks was doing something he shouldn’t be and so he figured he’d take Goten along with him on whatever whim had come over him. He chuckled as he took another drink and finally said sarcastically, “Maybe they _are_ playing video games, Kakarot. Who knows?”

“Mmm,” he murmured as he took a big gulp himself, “Have you had any trouble out of Goten?”

Vegeta mocked, “Goten’s not the one I’m worried about.”

“Ah,” Goku’s smile broadened, and he told him, “You’d be surprised, but Trunks is a bit of a troublemaker, too, huh?”

Vegeta couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at that remark, but he deflected, “I thought you said Goten wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Ha, well, he _shouldn’t_ be, but he is a teenager. They’re something else, aren’t they?”

Vegeta muttered, “They certainly are,” and they locked eyes for a second. A second too long. Vegeta shifted in his chair in panic that they’d actually begun a decent conversation. He needed to end it, so he opened his mouth to announce his plan to leave, changing his mind about staying after all, but Goku beat him to it, with another topic in mind.

“It’s kinda crazy that I met you so shortly after moving into the city.”

Vegeta snorted, “Yes, I certainly thought the city was bigger.”

“It’s cool that Trunks and Goten started hanging out, too. I’m really happy about that.”

“Hn.”

“And it’s weird that I ended up meeting Bulma, even _before_ I moved here…”

“Does this conversation have a point?”

“Yeah, sorta,” he stalled, looking a little nervous. Biting his lip as he took a deep breath, he dared to say, “When you were upset earlier, you said some things—”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta growled, stopping him there. He hadn’t meant to go off on him like he had, but it was too late to do anything about that. In any case, he certainly didn’t want to _talk_ about it. “You were doing as you were hired,” he sneered, “I am aware of that.”

“Yeah, but—”

“And I’d expect no less than a successful night on your part, especially if it involves them,” he grunted.

Goku’s expression turned into something a little more thoughtful, and he said, “Of course, but…”

“But _what_?”

“Well… I…”

“ _Out with it.”_

“… You said something… About me and Bulma…”

Vegeta thought about what he might have inferred, and then remarked, raising a brow as he watched him, “You think that I’m jealous of your relationship with her?”

Goku looked slightly alarmed, but he nodded in confirmation.

Vegeta shook his head and chuckled, “That’s hilarious.”

Goku gave him an odd stare before he confessed, “I want you to know that we’re just friends.”

Vegeta took another drink and told him, “I don’t care what you are.”

“It just seemed like—”

Vegeta growled, “You have a knack for catching me at the worst times. I have other things going on right now, and whatever your relationship is with her is none of my concern,” He drew his brows together as he realized he was talking too much, and _saying_ too much, and looked away again, huffing.

Goku nodded, feigning understanding, but he said, much to Vegeta’s surprise, “Yeah… yeah. I’d have been upset, too, though, if I didn’t know- if I hadn’t been there- if I were you, I mean,” he huffed a little and added, “I’m sure she just didn’t tell you because she didn’t want to scare you.”

Vegeta corrected, “Scare me? No. She didn’t want it to piss me off.” Goku’s expression muted a bit at that remark, and he began to speak but Vegeta interrupted him. “I’m over it, Kakarot. Drop it.”

“Okay… So,” he searched for another topic, shifting in his chair, “Can I ask you something else?”

Vegeta raised a brow, “There’s more you want to know? Impossible.”

Goku smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, uh, since you asked me and all, I was wondering… Why did you and Bulma get a divorce?”

Vegeta frowned, “Why don’t you ask her, since you’re such good _friends_?”

“I guess I could, but I’d rather ask you.”

 _‘I suppose I can respect that…’_ Vegeta thought, but he growled, “What does it matter?” as obstinate as ever.

“Just curious,” he shrugged.

“Your curiosity is unquenchable, apparently.”

Goku chuckled, “You still care for her, don’t you?”

Vegeta tutted, turning away from him, and saying behind his glass, “We have two children together. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Goku smiled gently, “I think she still cares for you, too, from how she talks about you.”

“Again, I _am_ the father of her children, Kakarot. It’s obligated, not romantic.”

Goku pondered that comment for a second before saying, “Really? Trunks thinks that you could still be with her…”

Vegeta’s eyes turned to him at that. Fascinated with how he came to such a conclusion, he wondered with sarcasm and skepticism, “You think so?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t trying to listen in or anything, but I overheard him telling Goten that you were the one who decided to move out.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and scoffed. Kids and their damn wagging tongues, talking about things they shouldn’t.

Goku waited and watched him, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, he added, “And Bulma mentioned one time that she never actually wanted to get a divorce from you…”

Vegeta answered, “As though a woman wanting to keep her home in one piece is some sort of revolutionary event.”

Surprisingly, Goku smiled at that remark.

Vegeta shifted again in his chair, trying to remain calm, as he told him, “All Trunks cares about is moving back in with her. He knows that I _could_ still _live_ with her, and that’s what he wants. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll be eighteen soon, and then he’ll be able to do just as he pleases.” He paused, thinking that he shouldn’t have told him that. He blamed the wine. He was drinking too fast and it was beginning to show.

Goku nodded at him, but he still seemed to be waiting for an answer. When Vegeta glanced over at the other man, he could tell that the wine was getting to him as well. Flushed cheeks look good on him, and he was clearly feeling a little brave in asking Vegeta something so personal. He was still looking at him expectantly.

Vegeta looked away again. He had to acknowledge that it wasn’t all that ridiculous of a question. He _was_ the one that brought up the topic of his previous relationship first earlier today, and he _did_ ask the man about his past, as well, but he didn’t really want to tell him _why_ he’d divorced Bulma. On the other hand, if he did, then maybe he’d be able to lose his interests in being so friendly. He wasn’t sure he wanted that, though. He _did_ , to a degree, but at the same time, it would be such a waste to miss any opportunity he _might_ have.

He supposed he felt a little insecure at the thought of discussing his infidelity, even with his solid reason of sexual orientation. After all, Kakarot had lost his wife under much different reasons.

What the hell is he thinking in overthinking this?

Goku seemed to get the hint that Vegeta wasn’t going to answer, and so he shifted topics once again, “So, um, what do you do for a living?”

Vegeta tried to hide his anxiety at the question which _shouldn’t_ have bothered him, and he took another drink before setting his glass down as he thought of something to say that wasn’t completely incriminating. Damn him! What would normally all be completely innocent questions had turned into something of an interrogation and Vegeta was not interested in being a part of it.

Still, he felt somewhat obligated to answer him, and to answer him truthfully at that. Something about Kakarot made him want to just tell him everything up front, but he wasn’t used to such urges.

Goku hummed, having caught on to him, anyways, “ _Are_ you working right now?”

He barked, “How the hell did you come to _that_ conclusion?”

“Trunks, uh, he mentioned that he didn’t think you were working right now.”

“Did he?” Vegeta snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, “He said that you’ve been home a lot earlier than you used to be. I only asked because I figured that since you were able to come to the gym so fast in the middle of the day, you probably weren’t working, after all. I’ve been wondering about it, though. I _did_ ask you before, about what your work was, but you never did tell me…”

 _‘That brat has been talking a lot about me, hasn’t he?!’_ Vegeta thought, and then he remarked proudly, “I _am_ in between jobs right now,” he admitted, snarling.

“Oh.”

“And what I _do_ isn’t all that interesting.”

“You’re some kind of businessman, though, right? Gohan said you used to work for Capsule Corp.”

“I assisted Bulma here and there, yes, and if you must know, I was a Project Manager.”

“Sounds… boring,” Goku mused, “So, uh, what happened at your last job?”

“It’s not your damn business, or my _son’s_ , for that matter.”

“Okay,” he pouted.

Vegeta glared defensively, “Why _did_ you invite me to spar with you today? So you could find out for yourself if it’s true?”

“No,” he answered, “I just wanted to spar with you again.”

What a strange comment. _‘Why_ did _he want to spar with me again? … Is he, or isn’t he?’_ Vegeta thought, ‘ _Why is he so damn hard to read?!’_ He grunted, “Is that so?” letting his eyes roam down Goku’s face and neck, onto his strong chest. _‘He looks so damn enticing, without even trying! Just sitting there, with those arms that could probably hold me up- or lock me into place- and those thick thighs-’_

“Yeah,” Goku nodded, “I told you, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good sparring partner, and you’ve proven to be a solid challenge twice now.”

“Hn,” Vegeta grumbled, trying to ignore his own wandering thoughts, “I’m surprised you even find the time for sparring, since you’re so busy holding down two jobs and all.”

Goku sighed, “‘Holding down two jobs’? I wouldn’t put it like that…”

Vegeta remarked, still examining him, “Yes, I’m sure you don’t consider your position at the gym a ‘job’, do you?” Goku looked away smiling and Vegeta sneered, knowing he was right. He exclaimed, “You must enjoy keeping yourself busy, though, _Detective_ , or should I say _Protector_ , or whatever the hell you are.”

Goku smiled guiltily, “I’m not a detective or a cop or a hit man- or whatever you called me earlier- but, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I am usually pretty busy. And I guess ‘Protector’ is what they call us.”

“What a title,” Vegeta mocked, bringing his glass to his lips, “Any perks to that career? I’m looking for a change, you know.”

He hesitated, and Vegeta could tell that he was wondering if he was being serious. “I don’t know what the _perks_ of it would be. I mean, I get paid great, and there’s the satisfaction of knowing I did a good deed, but…”

“Hn,” Vegeta grunted, drinking more of the wine. “Relax, Kakarot, I was being facetious,” but trying to pry for more information and get the topic off of himself, he added, “I’m sure there’s more to it than just knowing how to fight. I’d probably have to be some sort of upstanding citizen to even be considered. _Your_ record is squeaky clean, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but think of how inherently _good_ this man is. He, on the other hand, thought of himself as quite the opposite, try as he might to be better. Hell, he had been arrested the last time they’d talked. The reminder of it when Kakarot asked why he lost his job was disgruntling, but the thought that Kakarot might _know about it_ and he just isn’t saying anything made him feel a burning embarrassment.

He looked away from him again, which was hard to do every time he did, because all he really wanted to do was stop all this talking and tear his clothes off. He resisted.

Honestly, he couldn’t believe their conversation was still going strong. He’d thought for sure that the two of them would have wound up sitting here in awkward silence, but instead Kakarot was steadily finding ways to infiltrate every barrier Vegeta would normally have between them due to situational conditions that, whether Vegeta wanted to acknowledge it or not, were definitely _there_.

Goku, unaware of Vegeta’s lack of focus, but bringing Vegeta’s attention back to him easily, told him, “It’s not that great of a job. It’s really stressful. I get a lot of information sent to me on crimes, Most Wanted lists, things like that. It’s annoying, and sad, seeing so much bad going on all the time. It wasn’t something I applied for, either. I got invited into it by a couple friends of mine. Said they needed some help, and I had the skill set they were looking for. I was happy to do it, at first…”

“So you _do_ just go around helping people all day?”

Goku chuckled, “I guess.”

“Well!” Vegeta declared, pissed that _he_ was someone who he’d “helped” today, “You can rest assured that I’m perfectly fine, Kakarot, and you can stop treating me like some damsel in distress every time we see each other.” He finished off his glass and set it down in a huff.

Goku finished off his glass of wine as well and got up to head to the kitchen as he said, “You’re not gonna let this one go, either, huh?”

Vegeta balked for a moment but couldn’t help a smirk at that comment. He turned to say something smart, but by the time he opened up his mouth to speak, Goku was back with a new bottle and pouring him another glass of wine.

Vegeta watched him, allowing his eyes to trace up his body discretely. He couldn’t help but feel that he was entering dangerous territory. Kakarot had invited _him_ , _danger_ , into _his_ territory, and Vegeta entertained the thought of temptation the longer he lurked about.

Still, he felt unsure. Something wasn’t sitting right in the pit of his stomach. Kakarot is a simple man, and completely unassuming. He really is just trying to get to know him, isn’t he?

Vegeta couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent time with another man like this. Nothing about this warranted anything sexual. Vegeta couldn’t bring himself to consider the idea seriously, whether a reoccurring thought or not.

He chalked it up to his accruement of bad habits, including lustful thoughts whenever he’s around a handsome man, but deep down, he knew that Kakarot deserved more respect than that.

It bothered him, though, that this untouchable man wanted to get to know him. He should just tell him the damn truth, every dirty bit of it, shouldn’t he? If for no other reason than to be done with it already.

Or test his luck, maybe?

No, he just couldn’t.

Goku sat back down and poured himself another glass, setting the bottle aside. His eyes lifted to Vegeta’s and he smiled amiably.

Vegeta found it condescending and frustrating. He glared, “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing…”

He felt like he was under a microscope with Kakarot’s eyes on him, and Vegeta asserted, “Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not…” Goku chuckled, “Am I?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, “Yes.”

“Sorry,” he answered, but the smile on his face betrayed his lie.

Vegeta took a drink before he said, shaking his head, “Do not think that I’m stupid, Kakarot.”

“Hmm?” his brows raised as he took a drink.

“All these questions… I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What’s that?” the man smiled.

“You’re trying to figure me out,” Vegeta retorted.

Goku laughed again, “You got me.”

Vegeta smirked, “The moment I saw that it was _you_ who was dropping off your son at my house I should have ran the other direction.”

Goku’s smile broadened, “Do I make you uncomfortable or something?”

“Hnn, no,” he lied, “but I should have known when Trunks told me that _Goten’s father_ wanted to meet his before he allowed him to come over, that he’d be the curious, overly-sociable type.”

“Ahh,” Goku laughed, “And you’re the reserved, anti-social type, right?”

Vegeta tutted again, “Yes. Why you’re still trying so hard to get to know me, even though I’ve told you that it’s _never_ going to happen, I can’t understand.”

“Never say never.”

“Even if I gave you a year to study and dissect me, Kakarot, you wouldn’t be able to figure me out. Better to give up now than to waste your time, don’t you think?”

Goku grinned, “I don’t think I’ll ever have you _completely_ figured out, but you can’t blame me for trying.”

“You’re better off staying away from me,” Vegeta told him truthfully, flashing his teeth in a wolfish smile.

“Oh, yeah?” Goku grinned back lazily, not taking him seriously as he drank some more.

“Yes.”

“Why do you say that?” the man wondered, as nonchalant as ever, “I mean, I like sparring with you, when you’re not trying to take my head off.” He laughed, but then he added reasonably, “Our sons are friends. We know some of the same people… Why _wouldn’t_ I want to get to know you?” He rubbed the back of his neck again, “That’s sorta why I brought up Bulma, earlier, I didn’t want you to think that you can’t be friends with me.”

“She’s a non-issue, Kakarot,” Vegeta replied, amused, and knowing that he didn’t understand. Still, he said, at Goku’s bemused glance, “Besides, none of that equates to anything. Nor is it reason enough for you and me to become friends. If such a thing were possible.”

Goku wondered, “Not even sparring together?”

“You spar with many other people on a daily basis, don’t you, _Personal Trainor_?”

“Sure, I do, sometimes.”

“Do you consider them all to be your friends?”

“Nah, but I wouldn’t bring just anyone over to my house.”

“Another misjudgment on your part.”

Goku chuckled, “You think so?”

Vegeta raised his nose in the air as he took another drink and told him, “Absolutely.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am.”

“Well, I’m not convinced. I mean, if anything, getting to know you has been interesting so far.”

Although he couldn’t believe the man was so easygoing, Vegeta still chuckled, “Interesting, I’m sure, is an understatement for you.” He shook his head and growled seriously, “People aren’t always what you hope for once you get to know them, Kakarot.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve noticed,” Goku hummed, “And people from the city are totally different from back home, but… You’re different from most people and, sure, you’re a little rough around the edges, but that’s not a good enough reason for me to not want to talk to you.”

“How about the fact that we are clearly,” he looked him over, “complete opposites.”

“Are we?”

Vegeta raised a brow, “You disagree?”

Goku shrugged, taking a drink, “I don’t think we’re all that different.”

“I’m _sure_ that we are.”

“What does it matter? We can still see each other, right?”

Vegeta had to hide his surprise as the way the man had worded that question, and in his surprise, he didn’t respond.

“And what’s so bad about this anyways? I think this is nice.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, “ _This_ wasn’t even my choice.”

“Huh?”

“Abducting me doesn’t count.”

“I didn’t abduct you!”

“No?” Vegeta smirked, “You could have woken me up back there and let me go home.”

Goku shrugged, “I guess so, but I was worried, and it’s not a big deal. I mean, I really don’t mind that you’re here.”

His smirk flattened, “Your concern in unnecessary, and you certainly shouldn’t have brought me here, Kakarot.”

“Why not?” Goku wondered, something serious coming into his eyes.

Vegeta remarked smoothly, “You’re too trusting, bringing a stranger into your house like this. I’m not working, after all, what’s to stop me from robbing you blind? Or worse.”

“Hmm. You’re not really a stranger, though, I mean, I know your son, and your ex. And if you _did_ try to rob me, I’d find out, and I know where you live, so that wouldn’t make much sense on your part. Besides, I don’t think you’d do anything like that,” he smiled, “Something tells me that’s not your style.”

Vegeta chuckled, “Are you going solely based off of intuition?”

“Yep, my instincts are pretty good.”

“People train to be able to throw others off their guard.”

“Unless I’m fighting someone, I don’t believe in being guarded.”

Disbelieving, and wholly disagreeing with such a statement, Vegeta replied, still trying to trap him, “So just because we’ve met a few times you think you have an idea of my character?”

“I don’t judge anyone’s character.”

 _‘Who the hell is this guy?!’_ Vegeta thought, but still being stubborn, he argued, “What about reputation, Kakarot?”

“Reputation?” the man paused.

“Yes,” Vegeta tilted his chin confidently, “I have a bad reputation, you know? Wait, no, you didn’t, did you?”

Goku smiled, and played along, “I didn’t, but it can’t be that bad; I’ve never heard of you, and I’m in the business of taking out bad guys, remember?”

Vegeta took a drink, hoping to hide his smirk, but he couldn’t, and his amusement couldn’t be helped, so he let out a chuckle anyways. Oh, how wrong he was for that statement.

Goku was watching him closely, though. “A bad reputation, huh? Are you not gonna tell me?” He pushed, “Or are you just pulling my leg?”

“What does your gut tell you?” Vegeta quipped.

“Hey!” Goku chuckled, “You’re the one that said it. You can’t bring it up and then try to be all mysterious about it, that’s not fair.”

Vegeta smirked, “It’s not your concern and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Goku laughed again, “ _Should_ I be concerned? Maybe I should _look into_ _you,_ huh?”

“You’d have to have FBI clearance to get any information,” Vegeta cooed, still slightly amused, “My records are sealed.”

Still smiling, Goku wondered playfully, “Is that right?”

“That’s a fact,” Vegeta smized, “But that isn’t what I was talking about.”

Goku laughed and the sound was warm and genuine.

Vegeta suddenly tight lined his lips and looked away as he considered calling a cab right now. He should have called one when he got out of the shower. This is turning almost flirtatious, at least on his end, and that wasn’t his intentions. He’d told himself that wasn’t his intentions.

Goku was still watching him, though, and Vegeta got the impression that he was trying to determine how serious he’s being.

He, on the other hand, wondered how _transparent_ he was being. When did his own seriousness give way to licentiousness?

Eventually another small laugh escaped Goku’s lips and he remarked, “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out eventually, I guess. But, you know, Vegeta, if we ever were fighting for real, I’d be pretty nervous. I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen, though. And, honestly, I don’t care about whatever your ‘reputation’ is. I know you’re not a bad guy. I can tell.”

Vegeta retorted, “I might not be a petty criminal, but I’m certainly not a _good_ _guy_ , either. And contrary to what you believe, you don’t know anything about me, Kakarot.”

Goku simply smiled at him and he opened his mouth to speak, but a knock came to the door. He excused himself and got up to go get it. It was their food.

Vegeta silently sat there and berated himself again for talking too much and he wondered when he’d be able to get a fucking grip and mutteringly told himself to shut the hell up.

Goku came back quickly with the bags and placed everything on the counter in the kitchen before he began rearranging it all onto plates. It didn’t take him long at all. Just long enough for Vegeta to wonder if he should be offering to help. Just long enough for Vegeta to consider that he’d paid for their meal, _again_.

Goku served Vegeta his plate and then sat down with his own. Chuckling, he said, “I’ll try to work on my table manners this time.”

Vegeta cracked a smirk but then chased it away with some more wine. They began eating, and just like last time, they ate in silence.

The food actually was pretty good, much to Vegeta’s surprise. Either that or he was just starving. He really couldn’t complain, though, at least they both had something to preoccupy their time with while he continued to sort out his thoughts. He had a lot of thoughts to sort through.

 _‘After dinner I’ll call a cab and get the hell out of here…’_ Vegeta kept telling himself, but he had to admit that their dinner was pleasant. Their time together had been pleasant. In fact, Vegeta was more uncomfortable now that they weren’t talking than he was before.

They were eating too fast and they were definitely drinking too much. Kakarot had already poured the second half of their second bottle into each of their glasses and Vegeta felt… better? He didn’t know. The food had calmed him down immensely, and drinking was doing things to him he knew he shouldn’t allow. Making him think things. Making him feel a little loose. A little bolder. Not that he _isn’t_ bold enough already.

He tried his best to ignore the desire to look up at Kakarot as they were finishing up _. ‘He’s not_ that _good-looking,’_ he lied to himself, although he didn’t know why he even bothered. The least he could do is enjoy the vision of him while he is here. It’ll be the last time, after all. They may see each other in passing, but it would be nothing like this. Not if he could help it. Not that Kakarot isn’t desirable enough to brave an encounter like this again, he absolutely _is_ , but Vegeta just couldn’t willfully bring it about.

Goku’s usually bright, innocent eyes turned a little more pensive, as he suddenly said, “You never answered my question about how come you and Bulma got divorced…”

“I told you enough, don’t you think?” Vegeta growled, pushing his plate away and grabbing his drink.

Goku’s eyes flicked up at him and remained there as he stacked his plate on top of Vegeta’s. “Did you? I don’t remember…”

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

Goku shrugged, smiling, “It’s not that often that divorce ends in friendship.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes again, “I told you, I don’t do friends.” At Kakarot’s persistent gaze, he huffed, and told him, “Bulma wants me to live with her just the same as Trunks,” He shook his head, “But it has nothing to do with changing the status of our relationship.”

Goku cocked his head to the side and looked at him in anticipation. That still doesn’t answer his question, and he was refusing to let it go.

Vegeta knew then that he truly does want to know why his marriage ended. He hadn’t intended to _ever_ have a conversation even remotely _like this_ with _him_ , but here they are.

Perhaps being honest and somewhat indulgent about this would be best. Coming clean would probably end this now and benefit them both overall. They could walk away from each other and remain acquaintances, nothing more, which he is fairly certain is exactly what will happen.

So be it.

Vegeta took another drink as he considered this conversation a little more seriously, and then he finally admitted, “I cheated on her.”

“Oh,” Goku answered and it was clear he wasn’t expecting that information.

Vegeta added, just to make himself perfectly clear, “She would have been willing to overlook it, had I promised to remain faithful, but I couldn’t make such a promise. I clearly had no intentions of being in a committed relationship with anyone. Besides, I cheated on her with different men, and there was no point in me trying to play ‘house’ with her after that.”

“Oh,” Goku said again. Swallowing hard, he wondered, “You’re… into men?”

Vegeta’s eyes homed in on him as he said, “Yes.” He could tell the gears in his mind were working overtime, and he smirked at the remarkably blank expression on his face. No doubt he was thinking about all the times they’d wrestled on the ground together. No doubt he was wondering if he’s attracted to _him_ and if he should be uncomfortable around him now. No doubt he was thinking about a way to get him out of his home. No doubt he was thinking of ways to politely end this conversation and never see him again.

Vegeta took another sip of wine casually, rather enjoying putting it out in the open like that. Enjoying taking the pressure off of himself to end this in other ways. Enjoying Goku’s utter bafflement. Enjoying knowing that he’d ended their “budding friendship” without even having to try. Enjoying that he could finally be left alone to be himself again and not have to worry about the sinful thoughts he was having about the other man because they wouldn’t ever lead up to anything, anyways.

“Hmm…” Goku finally spoke.

 _‘Here it comes…’_ Vegeta thought, his eyes scanning down the other man before drifting back up to his face. He just wanted to take one last good look at him before he never sees him like this again.

“… It all makes sense, now…” Goku chuckled.

“What are you talking about?” Vegeta asked abruptly.

“Trunks said… Uh, never mind,” he took another drink, avoiding eye contact.

“What did Trunks say?” Vegeta growled, way too invested in this conversation to let it go.

Goku scratched the back of his head, “He said that you… Well, that you go out a lot… At night…”

Vegeta scoffed but a crooked, prideful smirk came to his lips regardless, “So what? Getting laid is not a crime.”

“Yeah, true,” Goku half smiled, finally looking at him, “But…”

“But? Explain yourself.”

Goku chuckled, “Are you always so demanding?”

“Always.”

“That’s not any way to get what you want.”

Stunned, Vegeta growled, “You’re going to tell me what my son has been saying about me!”

Goku grinned behind his glass, “Only if you ask nicely.”

“The last man that I was seeing couldn’t handle my attitude,” Vegeta replied, “What makes you think I’m going to change for you?” _‘Why the fuck did I just tell him that?!’_

Goku only laughed and answered, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not afraid of you, then, isn’t it, Vegeta?”

Shocked by the turn of this conversation, and trying desperately to get it back on track, Vegeta remarked, “We’re not dating!” and he wasn’t sure if he was flushed with embarrassment or annoyance, but he was certain his cheeks were red.

Goku smiled, “So I don’t really _have_ to tell you anything.”

“Yes, you do!” Vegeta growled, “What suddenly ‘makes sense’ in that head of yours?”

Goku smiled, clearly amused, “Oh, nothing. Hey, don’t be mad at Trunks for mentioning your, uh, nightlife, okay?”

Vegeta was taken aback. He couldn’t believe the direction this conversation has gone. Kakarot doesn’t seem bothered _at all_ by the fact that he just admitted that he’s gay, or that he’s a narcissistic asshole. Vegeta argued, though, going on the defensive and reworking his strategy, “Are you telling me how to parent my child?”

“Huh? No,” Goku replied.

He quirked a brow as he looked him over, and asked, smirking, “Why are you so concerned about what I do with my time?”

Goku smiled back, “I-I’m not.”

“Then what do you care about what my son has to say about it?”

He confessed, “I, uh, I just think Trunks was mentioning it to me on purpose, that’s all.”

“Really?” Vegeta wondered, smirking, but after he thought about it, he realized that Trunks probably _was_ telling him on purpose. Trunks was _definitely_ telling him on purpose.

Any curious amusement that Vegeta had remaining in this conversation left him abruptly. _‘He thinks I’m only sparring with him to try to fuck him,’_ Vegeta’s mind yelled, _‘And he doesn’t want us to get together because it would ruin his friendship with Goten if I end up hurting Kakarot…’_ His heart clenched.

Goku really wasn’t disturbed in the least, though, and he was even more unaware of Vegeta’s thoughts as he said, “I mean, I didn’t think much of it, until now. He comes over a lot, when Goten’s not at your place, Trunks is with him at mine,” he smiled, “And boy is he opinionated. He’s definitely not afraid to speak his mind.”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, and thought, _‘That would be one of his mother’s traits.’_

Goku was saying, “I always ask him how you’re doing. I mean, I’m reminded of you every time I see him. He seems annoyed by me whenever I bring you up, though, and every time Goten mentions the idea of watching you and me spar, Trunks freaks out. At first, I thought that maybe he doesn’t like _me_ , but now it makes sense, why he kept bringing up that you go out all the time… Why he doesn’t seem to like the idea of us hanging out together. He’s just trying to be protective of you.”

“He’s not protecting _me_ , you idiot,” Vegeta spoke before he could think twice. He hid his dismay behind taking another drink of wine the moment he realized what he’d said.

Goku only laughed, “I don’t know about that, Vegeta. I mean, if he thinks for a second that _you_ like _me,_ that really shows what he knows, right?! You and I both know that the only reason you’re even still _here_ is because your car’s still at the gym!”

He’s not _entirely_ wrong. The man isn’t as dense as he thought, is he? Thank his good luck, whatever he has of it, anyways, that Goku’s too convinced of his ire to be concerned with his attentions. Vegeta supposed he should be grateful, but he honestly didn’t know what to think.

This whole thing truly was doomed before it ever began, wasn’t it? He’s literally being cockblocked by his own son. Is this some sort of warped payback? The universe has a sense of humor, after all.

Goku finished off his drink and sighed, his eyes averted, as he played with the stem of the wineglass thoughtfully.

Vegeta was looking at him, though, _really_ looking at him. He wondered, _‘Is he… blushing?’_ but then concluded, _‘No, he’s just buzzed. Buzzed enough to not be bothered. And I’m just reaching for it now. Still trying to figure him out. Hell, I’d practically beg for his attention at this point because of the sheer fact that I know I can’t have it! it’s probably just the wine. I’ve been drinking. He’s been drinking. Maybe he’s bluffing, and he’s actually nervous to be around me, he’s just handling it well. Maybe he’s thinking of a way to get me out of his home. Likely both. He just learned that I’m gay and my_ overprotective _son doesn’t approve of us spending time together.’_

Goku smiled, then, and looked up at him, “Would you like some more wine, Vegeta? I have another bottle in the kitchen.”

“No,” Vegeta answered stiffly, finishing off his glass, _‘Of course, he_ would _try to be as kind as ever as a means to cover up his discomfort.’_ Vegeta asserted, “I need to get home. I’m going to call a cab.”

“I can take you,” Goku offered, standing up from his seat.

“No,” Vegeta argued, confused.

“Why not? I’ll drive you to your car. It’s not far,” he told him, as he began to clear their plates.

Vegeta commented in a snarky manner, smirking as he watched him head to the kitchen, “I have a feeling you’re a lightweight of a drinker and I certainly don’t trust you to drive right now.”

“What?! I’m good! Promise!” he said, throwing the dishes into the sink recklessly and rinsing his hands.

“Isn’t driving under the influence against your job’s code?”

Goku chuckled, “No, it’s fine!”

Vegeta growled, annoyed. He wasn’t going to put up with being argued with. He stood up from his seat at the table as he turned around to disagree with him, “Kakarot! You just bought me dinner and let me sleep here! You’ve done enough! _Too_ much, actually!” _‘And I don’t think I can handle going anywhere in close proximity to you!’_

“Don’t be like that…” Goku contended, wiping his hands off on a towel.

“I told you to stop treating me like some damn charity case!”

Goku was coming up to him now, and he remarked in an amused tone, tossing the towel to the side, “I knew you were going to bring that up.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, but believe it or not, that’s not what I’m doing, and I’m not gonna let you use that argument to try and win this fight.”

Vegeta was surprised by that comment, but he shook his head, having already told himself that he was going to get a cab and that was that- extra cost of it be damned. He told him, reassuring himself and standing his ground, “I am perfectly capable of paying for a cab—”

“I never said you weren’t,” Goku agreed.

Vegeta snorted at that and pulled out his phone, but Goku came forward and snatched it. Balking, Vegeta blurted out, “What do you think you are doing?!”

Goku said, holding it out and away from him, “You can have it back when we get to your car.”

“How dare you?!” Vegeta snipped, reaching out for it, but Goku was too quick and too tall.

The man stuck out his tongue at him as he tossed his phone from one hand to another and then put it in his back pocket, grinning down at him in his victory. 

Vegeta suddenly realized he was standing right in front of him, well within arm’s reach.

“Just let me drive you, Vegeta,” Goku offered again.

Vegeta had to admit that he is _so convincing_ , even with his gentle approach. Or maybe he’s just too close for Vegeta to think straight. Or maybe the wine is making him think things he _really_ shouldn’t be and give more attention to details he _really_ shouldn’t be looking at. Like his lips and what it might be like to kiss him, or hell, what it might be like to have that mouth surrounding his cock, Trunks’ opinion be damned.

If he kissed him right here and now, Kakarot would certainly let him take a cab home. Wouldn’t he?

Would he?

He couldn’t be sure, and the idea was titillating.

The moment passed.

Kakarot moved away and said, “I know you’re ready to go. Let me go grab my coat, okay? I’ll be right back,” and with that he escaped through the house and down the hall.

At Kakarot’s retreat Vegeta was suddenly able to think a little better and he realized that he no longer had any idea of what the fuck was going on. Luckily for him, he finally had the chance to get the hell out of here. He headed towards the front door quickly and picked up his stuff, taking his coat out of his bag and throwing it on.

When Kakarot reemerged, he nodded at Vegeta, grabbed his car keys and asked, “You ready?”

The car ride didn’t take long, about ten minutes, and it was spent in silence except for the random songs being played quietly in the background from the radio. Goku pulled into the parking lot next to Vegeta’s car. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed him his phone.

Goku told him, “Let me know next time you wanna spar, okay? And you’ll tell me if you catch Goten doing something he’s not supposed to be doing, yeah?”

Vegeta chuckled, taking his phone back from him, and he smirked as his eyes lifted to Kakarot’s. The smile fell from his lips as he realized he should be thanking him. Again. He should be telling him that he’s a good man and that he’s sorry for snapping on him.

He should be telling him that he needs to stop wasting his time with him. That he’d be better off pouring his heartfelt and unimaginably good-natured attention into literally anyone else.

He didn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he looked away and opened the door to the cold night air.

“Goodnight, Vegeta…”

Vegeta didn’t reply. He just got out and closed the door behind him. And he never looked back.


	8. 8

8

Trunks and Vegeta wound up getting into a fight the next day. About everything. All over again. Trunks was suspicious of where he’d been the day before, and after not getting any answers, he finally confessed that he knew that he wasn’t working again and conveyed that he was _pissed_. Vegeta remarked that he knew that he was skipping school and that he was back to his old ways of bringing girls over, and he assured his son that he was equally pissed off at him, for those and _other_ reasons he wasn’t willing to bring up.

Trunks didn’t care and was none the wiser. Besides, he wound up winning their little spat in the end. That is, he admitted that he’d already told his mother about Vegeta’s lack of employment. Vegeta grounded him over that, as well as another girl encounter that he loathed to experience (they always come up with the most creative places to hide). The punishment only lasted so long; Trunks never came home the next day, so… Whenever Trunks finally did come back the day after that, neither he nor Vegeta spoke to one another. It’s been three weeks since then and they still aren’t on the friendliest terms.

To top that off Bulma’s been calling Vegeta nonstop. She ended up paying his rent for the next six months, which enraged Vegeta, but it was too late to do anything about it. She also offered for him to come by so they could discuss some work options, and not just the one she offered him before, but an actual position at Capsule Corp.

Apparently Capsule Corp. would still hire him, and she promised that they would _not_ fire him for something stupid like his difficult type-A personality, because he’d be working for her directly, and she, being a type-A personality herself, felt certain she could handle any tantrums he might throw. Vegeta still didn’t want to accept the offer and he told her so, numerous times, even refusing to come over to discuss it.

Bulma wasn’t taking no for an answer, though. She insisted that he _will_ be an employee at her company, and therefore on their payroll at a very generous wage, but that the work could be done at home some of the time, and that he’d only have one or two other coworkers, whenever he would be required to come to the headquarters to work.

“Even you can handle that, Vegeta!” her voicemail grated his ears. “Besides,” She insisted, “I need you there to make sure my ideas aren’t being stolen. Or my equipment. And I want you to keep an eye on my employees and make sure they’re staying busy. I don’t expect you to actually do much. Just assist them sometimes. And I don’t suspect anything of Gohan… but he’s not the only one I have working on my more… confidential projects.”

He really _couldn’t_ say no to _that_. She knew she could trust him, and she did have a lot to protect.

Before Vegeta knew it, she’d already sent his information in for tax purposes. In fact, she sent over a generous amount of paperwork that she knew he’d tackle out of pure boredom. Damn woman knows him too well, so he ultimately caved and went to work.

Kakarot had messaged him once during this past month to ask if he wanted to spar again. Vegeta was tempted, but he replied that he was busy and that was that. He was grateful the man didn’t push it. He knew he would have caved in if he had.

A week later Vegeta was angrily typing away at the computer when Trunks came home a little later in the afternoon than school calls for. He looked up briefly at the sound of another voice chattering along with his. Goten’s. Vegeta was immediately reminded of Kakarot but he tried to remain focused on his work.

The boys were talking loudly and excitedly, ever distracting. Something about Valentine’s Day and making plans with some girls from school. Vegeta could gag. Trunks reminded him too much of himself in the dating regards and, for obvious reasons, it bothered him. With Goten, though, Vegeta couldn’t be so sure if he’s actually interested in dating around like Trunks does, or if he’s just following in his footsteps in an attempt to remain friends.

They were saying something about money, now. Vegeta was still trying not to listen but the boys clearly didn’t know the headphones he had in weren’t actually playing anything at the moment.

Trunks was telling his friend, “No, bro, don’t get a job! It’s a waste of time right now! You’re a Junior! Wait until you graduate.”

“Okay, well, I don’t have money like you do,” Goten shrugged, “Valentine’s Day is stupid holiday, anyways.”

Trunks grinned, “You’re looking at it all wrong!”

“Yeah, okay,” Goten sighed, “Whatever, I just don’t get what the big deal is. I mean, I never used to think about things like this before…”

“That’s because you were homeschooled! You didn’t have the options you do, now,” Trunks smirked, heading to the kitchen.

Vegeta tensed. _‘There’s no food in there…’_

A second later he heard his son curse, “Damn it!” Trunks came out of the kitchen and sent a glare to Vegeta that Vegeta pretended not to notice. “Feed your child!” Trunks yelled louder than necessary, making sure he was heard over whatever he thought his father was listening to. He turned to his friend, “Come on, Goten, let’s go to my room and we’ll go out to eat later on, okay? I’m buying.”

Goten looked embarrassed by the outburst, but he turned and waved at Vegeta sweetly before running off to catch up with his friend.

Vegeta sat there for a minute, tried to go back to work but failed to concentrate on it, and then he turned off his computer and got up to head out.

Anywhere but here. That’s where he wanted to be. Anywhere but in his own home with his own son who didn’t respect him.

Probably hates him.

Much later on, Vegeta found himself removing his red stained shirt, tossing it into the tub, and standing in front of his bathroom mirror with a bloodied nose and more scrapes and bruises than he’d like to acknowledge. Stopping the blood oozing from his face was one thing, he could cover it up with gauze until the wound started to coagulate and mend but healing the internal damage, the same wound he felt sucking the life out of him from deep in his soul, was another thing entirely.

Why is he still torturing himself like this? Going to fight clubs was something young punks did in their twenties! Sure, he’d won the fight but at what cost? His body? That’s not exactly an equal trade. He isn’t getting any younger. He can’t do this forever.

He probably shouldn’t have had a few drinks before getting in the ring, either. His win would have been more secured if he hadn’t, but now, even with another victory under his belt, he was beat up worse than he’d like to admit, all because of some young asshole with something to prove. 

He didn’t _need_ to get into that ring tonight to begin with. Not like he did when he was younger. Or when he was a little older; his pride wasn’t that fragile anymore. He did it now simply because he _wanted_ to.

He was a favored fighter, after being around for so long and never losing a battle, (even if he wound up hospitalized for it later, which has happened a time or two) and he knew that every time he showed up to one of those things the spectator’s bets tripled, and he was always paid handsomely, but he didn’t always do it for the money, either.

So if he wasn’t doing it for his pride, or the money, then why was he wasting his time?

Is it the rush he gets from entering the matches that draws him in? The thrill of going blow to blow, no holds barred certainly isn’t like anything else that he knows to compare it to. Still, it’s so meaningless. In the end, it’s nothing but dangerous, reckless, and stupid. It’s self-inflicted torment, really.

He supposed he correlated his passion for fighting with his troubled youth, but he didn’t want to think about that. That’s too much to unpack. Ever.

Still, he tried to make sense of his risky decision.

Was it to satiate his anger, maybe, or to work out some of his stress? Was he trying to battle his demons, so to speak? Or was he merely attempting to feed the beast caged within with the only outlet he knew would satisfy? At least, for a time it would, anyways, but it never lasted.

Tired eyes stared back at him and his weary mind wondered, ‘ _How much longer are you going to keep doing this?’_ and it echoed with, _‘How much longer_ can _you keep doing this?’_

He knew he should have let it go a long time ago- this bloodthirst within him- he should have let _everything_ go a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, though, holding onto his past kept him sharp in both body and mind. It made him moody and unsociable, of course, but it helped from him ever allowing himself to be used or mistreated. So, that’s… something.

Or is it? Because instead of creating some sort of barricade and remaining unaffected, he’s developed astounding defense mechanisms that have backfired in ways he’d never intended. Now _he’s_ the one who uses and mistreats, and his pitiful qualities know no bounds. Even those who don’t deserve it wind up getting the backlash of his half a personality; Trunks, Bulma, Bra… not to mention the countless amount of people he’s led on or fucked over in some grand pursuit over the years, whether it was business, personal, or otherwise.

He was still waiting for his wounds to dry up as he huffed at himself. He swapped out the gauze for a handful of paper towels he’d brought with him to the bathroom, and he poured antiseptic all over them, using them to clean the wound, and wincing at the burn, before he rinsed his face and placed new gauze over it. He tilted his head back as he berated himself, breathing out of his mouth uncomfortably.

If he hadn’t drank it would have stopped bleeding by now. If he hadn’t drank, he might not have gotten into that ring to begin with.

He looked himself over, again, and, feeling shaky and sore, he had to admit that the image looking back at him wasn’t much, even to his own eyes. Although he was proud of himself for what he has been able to accomplish in his life, given his circumstances, he wasn’t certain of the man he saw looking back at him. It was the face of an angry man who’d never moved on from any wrongdoing ever done to him, with scars of a battle from someone who’d seen too much death and dealt with one too many brushes with the grim reaper himself.

But it wasn’t what was on the outside that bothered him. He was vain enough to know that he was good looking and he’d never questioned that. It wasn’t even really his sarcastic attitude, because, in all honesty, he thinks he’s pretty damn funny.

No, it was the darkness he felt when he went to bed at night that shook him to the core. The disgruntled, sarcastic, dismissive man he’d conjured up from deep within himself to contend with those around him when he didn’t feel like making an attempt to go beyond superficial social encounters because no encounter had ever given him anything beyond momentary mediocre satisfaction. Aside from his kids. And he supposed Bulma wasn’t so bad.

The thought of Kakarot came to him.

He thought of the other man too often. His strength, his charms, his easy-going ways, hell, even his idiocies were enrapturing to him. He’s attracted to him, yes, and he wants him, (honestly, who wouldn’t?) and after their last encounter he found himself actually fascinated with the idea of seeing him again without any pretenses. The man had made his mark on him, so to speak, and his interests in his are starting to dig a little deeper. A true rarity for him; Kakarot has no idea how proud he should be of himself.

It’s always such a new, exciting feeling, when one begins to think of another with considerations other than lust, and it’s been a while since Vegeta had felt that spark. He was almost certain, though, that the notion of lust was the forefront of his goals, and he assumed that if he allowed himself to feed into his mostly pernicious musings of bringing his relationship with Kakarot into the bedroom, once that part was satiated, the rest of his small, enigmatic emotions would dissipate with time and familiarity.

They always have before, so why even bother?

Widening the already unlocked and now cracked door between them would surely only cause problems. Even if he _did_ try to pursue him (which he honestly still wasn’t sure was even an option), and even if something _else_ came out of it (which he highly doubted), eventually it would only turn into another failed relationship. Kakarot would end up either hating him or walking out of his life altogether. Probably both. Just like the others.

What’s worse, Kakarot knows his family, and so keeping him at bay, and any rendezvous they might speculatively have a secret, would be extremely difficult, and a relationship with him, especially an inevitably failed one, might hinder his son’s relationships with his friends, and worsen his own already pathetic relationship with his son.

Besides- truth be told- he’s a little jealous of Kakarot, but he wasn’t ready to unpack all of that right now, either. He just needed to get that damn man out of his head.

Vegeta scoffed at himself in retrospect. There was a damn good reason he kept his private life private, and he knew that it was _his own fault_ that things in his life has turned out this way.

He hadn’t intended for the persona that he’d created to fight for himself in times of trouble to become all of him all of the time, but here he stands, gazing into his own dark and hardened eyes, and he realized that he would never be rid of this identity. He knew that. He accepted it.

Everyone else needs to do it, too. The sooner, the better.

He wondered, as he stared into the face of the man he’d become, what would break first: His mind and body, his will and determination, or his families weakening resolve to forgive him time and time again?

He didn’t know why he was getting so emotional tonight. Maybe it was the fact that he’s been trying to convince himself that it’s not all that bad, but deep down, he couldn’t deny that it is. Not his life, per se, it isn’t that bad, and he’s certainly been in worse positions, but the fact that he couldn’t seem to just _settle down_ like a _normal_ person and _let things go_.

He knew that he could make ends meet on his own terms in whatever way necessary if push came to shove, but that was _him_ , that didn’t have anything to do with his responsibility to his family. That’s what he couldn’t seem to get a grasp on. And to have to rely on his ex-wife for everything that really matters to him; his children- the fact that she’s now employing him! Paying his bills so that he can feign taking care of his own kids- feed them, clothe them, teach them, _love them_ \- It’s too much.

He has an ex who is too fond of him for her own good, and perfectly capable all on her own, a daughter whom he never sees for fear of letting her down, and a son who’d rather not see him. That’s it. That’s his whole world. That’s all he cares about, even if he doesn’t show it, and he can’t even manage to do right by them.

Just like his father.

He reared his fist back and punched at his reflection before he could think better of it. The mirror shattered. His already fucked up hand began to bleed.

He stood there for some time trying to nurse his new wounds, but he knew there was no point, and the bleeding in his heart and the agony coursing through his mind still hurt far worse.

Shower it is. He’d clean up this mess later. He reached over and turned the water on. Then he heard a voice coming from just inside of his bedroom.

“… Dad?”

“Get the fuck out!” Vegeta snapped, screamed, slamming the bathroom door shut before Trunks could get any closer.

Trunks didn’t dare pursue it any further.

When Bulma called him over to her house the next day for a work meeting which she demanded he _needed_ to attend, he headed over without much ado for once, hoping that it would at least prove to be a solid distraction if nothing else. He didn’t think twice about his appearance because Bulma had seen him like this before, but he was still not expecting her reaction. The sight of Gohan, though, he caught Vegeta off guard, although he should have known that he wasn’t going to be meeting with Bulma alone. He could only blame himself for his lack of forethought in that regard.

He remained stoic as Bulma gaped, as much as he could manage around someone so bright as his ex, who knows him better than anyone else in the world, and reserved, as much he could muster, around this young man, who has very keen eyes, and reminds him so much of a certain man he constantly tries not to think about.

“Vegeta! What the hell happened to you?!” Bulma hollered at him.

“I won.”

“That- I- You- Damn it, you know what? Never mind! You’re impossible,” she said, still inspecting him, nonetheless. Despite the fact that he swatted her away, she managed to get inside of his precious bubble, “My gosh, this must have just happened!”

“Enough!” he snapped on her, “I didn’t come here for you to make a medical examination!”

She huffed and backed off.

Gohan smiled as Vegeta’s eyes fell onto him, and he bowed his head a little as he said, “It’s nice to see you again, Vegeta.”

“Gohan,” Vegeta replied in the most monotone voice he could manage.

“So,” the young man grinned, and Vegeta expected him to make a crack about his appearance, but instead all he said was, “You decided to come back to work for Capsule Corp. after all, huh?”

Vegeta was impressed. Not only was he not prying, although he was certain he was curious, but the look on his face told him that Gohan was used to seeing such injuries. He didn’t seem fazed in the least.

Vegeta supposed that made sense and grunted, sarcastically, “Take my advice and don’t get divorced, Gohan, lest your ex-wife coerce you into things against your will.”

Gohan smiled and laughed, clearly not taking him seriously. Just like his father.

Bulma snorted, “Alright, Vegeta. Gohan tells me the two of you have already met so I’ll skip the introductions and let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Gohan was eager to begin and Bulma was clearly preoccupied. Vegeta was grateful. After she gave them brief instructions on what she expected to get worked on, she left vowing to return later on to check on their progress. Gohan dove right in at her departure and Vegeta allowed him to lead with little to no enthusiasm.

Working alongside Gohan was interesting, though. He was curious, methodical, and creative in his approaches to their problems, and Vegeta was calculating and decisive, which made for a pretty good team. Bulma came in and checked on them once after a while, but it was a very brief appearance, as she was too busy to stay and give any true input.

What Vegeta thought was going to be an hour-long thing wound up turning into a whole day affair, but it really wasn’t so bad. Gohan was just as bright as he’s surmised from the first time they’d met, and he was every bit as passionate about what they were studying as someone in their youth ought to be. Vegeta thought a lot of him, honestly, but he hardly said two words of encouragement to him, somehow knowing he didn’t need or want the praise, not that he would give it to him if he did. Instead, he gave him hard no’s and obstinate arguments to just about every theory the young man conjured up. Gohan just kept on finding news ones.

When Bulma came back in again during the late afternoon, she brought Bra with her. Bra ran into the room and Vegeta hoisted her up into his arms at her demand.

“Papa! What happened?!” the child asked, touching his face gingerly.

“Everything’s fine,” He told her, refusing to even so much as bat a lash in the pain her touch had caused to his tender, bruised nose. He declared to both Bulma and Gohan that it was time to stop for the day.

Gohan smiled down at them and said, “I think you’re right. I’ve got plans tonight, and I need to get home to my little girl, too.”

“You have a daughter?” Vegeta wondered. He supposed he shouldn’t be shocked, but Gohan just seemed so young to him, and Kakarot certainly seemed too young to be a grandfather. How old _is_ Kakarot? He didn’t know why he cared. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him.

Gohan nodded, “Yes, her name is Pan. She’s only two. My wife and I have plans tonight with my Dad and my brother, but if I don’t get back soon to help with Pan while she gets ready, I don’t think Videl is going to be very happy with me.”

“Smart man,” Bulma chimed.

“Anyways,” Gohan chuckled, “it was great working with you! I’ll catch up with you guys soon. Bye!”

He left quickly after that and Vegeta tried to ignore the strange sensation in his chest at the vocal mention of Kakarot.

“Papa!” Bra began, gaining his attention, and she chattered away into his ear about staying for dinner.

“That’s a good idea! I can invite Trunks,” Bulma smiled at Vegeta, “And we can get those wounds looked at. It’ll only take a sec.”

Vegeta glared at her and set his daughter down. He told her to head upstairs and get cleaned up. Once she was gone Bulma sighed at him, waiting for their argument to begin.

Vegeta told her, “I have no intention of letting you inspect me, woman.”

“Fine, fine!” she waved her hands, “Can you at least spare another hour at your daughter’s disposal?”

Vegeta only grunted, “You shouldn’t have told her I was here,” neither confirming nor denying, and he turned away, looking over their project as a distraction.

Bulma answered, “Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t want her to see you like this, is that it? You used to wear your wounds like a damn badge of honor, though I can’t understand for the life of me why.”

Vegeta didn’t reply.

Moving on, she wondered, “What do you think of Gohan? He’s a smart one, isn’t he?”

“It’s a miracle you found him,” Vegeta agreed.

“I told you that you’d like him,” she said conceitedly, “It’s funny that you met him before… He’s straight you know, but you probably figured that already. At least, I think he is. But then again, I thought you were, too.”

Vegeta smirked at that comment looking over his shoulder at her, and replied, “I’m not interested in him.”

“Well, what’s with you?” she countered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bulma rolled her eyes, “Something’s up with you. I can tell.”

“You’ve seen me for a full five minutes.”

“Trunks says you’ve been acting strange, recently, too.”

“What does he know?” Vegeta deflected, “That damn boy talks too much.” Turning to face her more fully, he said, “I sent Bra upstairs so I could speak to you alone.”

“You going to tell me why you got into that ring when you know damn well-”

“Stop introducing ideas of _us_ as one big happy family into our children’s heads. Hers _and_ Trunks’, but especially hers. It’s not helping anything.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m not doing that.”

“You are. Unknowingly, apparently.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“And you’re using our daughter as a way to persuade me into staying over when you know damn well that I don’t want to.”

“Why not, Vegeta? What’s the big deal? It’s just dinner. With _us_ , for goodness sakes.”

“We lead separate lives, Bulma. I want it to stay that way.”

She frowned, “You always did. _We_ always did. In fact, I don’t think we ever truly were on the same page.”

He scowled, “Cheating aside, leaving was the best thing I could have done _._ ” _‘For you, and our kids,’_ he added silently.

Bulma pouted, “I disagree, with the cheating _and_ the leaving.”

“That’s what I mean. Stop bringing that up. It’s old news. Besides,” he shook his head as he turned away from her again, “You just don’t know any better and you could never understand.”

Annoyed, Bulma cried, “Sure, I don’t understand! No one understands! Psh! Come on, Vegeta. Do you always have to be so difficult? So negative? So _stubborn_?!”

“You knew all of that about me when we got married. And divorced.”

“We’re divorced, Vegeta! We’re not enemies! Sometimes I don’t even know what we’re fighting about!”

“There’s nothing to fight about, anymore, woman,” Vegeta grunted, reflecting on how she always used to be able to turn things around on him. He wouldn’t allow it anymore, not if he could help it.

“What the hell is going on, Vegeta? You know I _hate_ seeing you like this! One of these days you’re going to get into some real trouble! What then? Am I supposed to explain to our daughter why her father is in the hospital? Or _worse_?! Can’t you just stop this whole _‘I’m carrying the world on my shoulder’s’_ crap?!”

“And now I’m leaving. You should be used to this, too,” he answered, and he grabbed his coat and his things.

“Oh, you have nothing to say, now? Of course, you don’t. You never want to talk about anything! Are you not even going to say goodbye to your daughter?! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to explain to her _why_ you never stay for dinner? Or _why_ you don’t come around more often? She needs you, Vegeta! It’s not that hard! I know you’ll be there for her when it’s something serious, but if you aren’t there for the little things, how can you expect her to come to you about the bigger things? She’s growing up fast! Kids do that! And you know it! Look at Trunks! He’s almost eighteen!”

Vegeta argued admittingly, “What do you want from me, Bulma?” _‘Damn her, she’s doing it again.’_

“Well, for starters, you could _try_ to give our daughter _some_ love and attention!” Bulma spat, “I bought that whole ‘I’m not the affectionate type’ line when you told it to me, and I get that you have a hard time showing your emotions, I really do, but she doesn’t deserve to be exposed to your cold shoulder. So, I have an idea! A compromise! Instead of spending time with her _here_ , since you’re so disgusted with the idea, why don’t you take her out from now on? Twice a month, at least. Any day you like.”

Vegeta paused and turned to her, considering it. She got him over here just to bring it up, didn’t she? He clenched his jaw. She does have a point, and the idea wasn’t terrible.

Bulma was smiling at him confidently, knowing she had his attention, “I know you want to at least _try_ Vegeta… I _know_ that much… Take her to the mall. The zoo. The movies. Whatever. She’ll love every second of it! Just do _something_! It might even help you not be such a damn grouch all the time.”

“Whatever,” Vegeta huffed and he headed upstairs to say goodbye to Bra before he left.

“And go to the damn doctor to get yourself checked out, you maniac!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Baby_Buu for agreeing to Beta for me :) I appreciate you!
> 
> I am very excited about the next chapter, too.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys! I hope ya'll are enjoying it so far!


	9. 9

9

Vegeta went straight home and stayed there after the meeting, and after checking the fridge for absolutely no reason at all, he groaned to himself, crawled into bed, and turned off his phone. He was hungry, but he was more tired and annoyed than anything. He had a lot on his mind, as usual, but he managed to will himself into drifting off to sleep.

He didn’t leave his room if he knew that Trunks was home for quite a few days after that, not until his wounds were mostly healed. He just didn’t want to deal with his questions. Even if the boy’s mother mentioned his condition, without seeing the damage for himself, Trunks was less likely to strike up a conversation about it.

Trunks knew he participated in local fight nights, but they never talked about it, and luckily, Trunks isn’t old enough yet to get in to see him fight, so Vegeta didn’t have to worry about his son getting any ideas.

He relied on delivery for food in the meantime and drank up most of his stash of liquor. Once he’d grown tired of wasting his life away cooped up in his apartment with little else to do but read, watch TV, and jack off, he headed to the gym and hit the weights hard. His nose was still a little sore and his knuckles were still banged up, but everything else is mostly okay, now. Passable, anyways, as long as no one stares too closely. He must not have looked too bad; he got some rando’s number, after all.

He determined, after being so inconvenienced for so many days stuck in his apartment, that he should probably go to the store again and get some groceries. It would be nice to have something to eat at the house for a change. Even if it didn’t last long, which it never did, it would still be worth the trip. He was running low on toiletries and basics, anyways.

Pulling up to the grocery store, he got out and went inside with nothing on his mind but getting in and getting out. He’d already made sure he had his bank and credit cards on him, and he decided that he would buy whatever looked good regardless of the cost or the amount of items he piled up his cart with because he was working this time around and he didn’t want to have to come back any time soon.

The trip went by uneventfully and he loaded up his car and left.

When he got home, pushing the door open with his foot, arms full of bags of groceries, he saw that Trunks was there, and he noticed that he was dressed up. Trunks turned and gave him an incredulous look as he was finishing the final touches on his outfit. He ignored his stare, dropped the bags off on the dining room table, and went back outside to get the rest of the items he’d purchased.

When he came back Trunks wondered, openly speaking to him for the first time in nearly a month, “Groceries? Really? I haven’t seen you in days and the first time I do you’re trying to be a homemaker again? What’s gotten into you?”

“I haven’t seen _you_ in a while and the first time I do you look… stuffy,” Vegeta remarked, laying down the rest of the bags he’d muscled into the house onto the table with the others. He took off his coat and his gloves, still looking his son over, and asked, “What’s with the attire? It’s too cold to be going to the yacht club or whatever you rich kids like to do to flex your parent’s money.” He only half-expected a reply so he turned his focus to unbagging everything he’d bought.

Trunks smirked, watching him, and eyeing the goodies he’d gotten. He answered, “I have a date. Duh. It _is_ Valentine’s Day. What, you couldn’t get one of your fuck toys to make time for you? Oh, I forgot, they’re probably all married, aren’t they?”

Vegeta only replied to that comment with a slight grunt before he remarked, “I don’t _do_ Valentine’s Day.” He had no idea that was today, anyways.

“Why not? Easy lay,” Trunks mused conceitedly.

Vegeta eyed him, “You sound too much like me, _son_. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Trunks replied, now sorting through the bags Vegeta was trying to unpack, “Well, no, not when it comes to things like this. Dating and all. _You_ know. My plan _is_ to be like you when it comes to dating. I’m _never_ going to fall in love.”

“Someone’s going to break your heart someday whether you plan for it or not,” Vegeta tutted snidely.

“Oh yeah? Is that what happened to you? Must have been before you met Mom, huh? Oh, I get it. That’s why you cheated on her so you _wouldn’t ever_ fall in love with her? Not completely anyways, I know you still care about her, but you know what I mean. Wait, is that why you stopped dating women entirely and never got into another relationship? Because most men don’t do the whole ‘I’m in love with you let’s be together forever’ thing,” Trunks grinned, “I never would have thought that’s what your problem is, but I guess it makes sense. All the more reason not to waste my time on that love crap in the first place.”

“That’s not…” Vegeta started, but he gave up. He knew Trunks was baiting him as Trunks glanced at him expectantly, hoping to get _something_ out of him for once. He wasn’t going to fall for it. He didn’t plan on sharing. Trunks didn’t need to know that he’s just incapable of letting someone get in that close in the first place.

Trunks might be optimistic for himself in that regard, and Vegeta understood his plan perfectly, but he knows better. Trunks won’t be able to make it happen. He just isn’t hardened like Vegeta. His resolve on remaining untouchable with eventually fail, and the first girl that he falls for will rip him apart. He’ll never be the same. Then he’ll really want to swear off love.

Vegeta shrugged off the thought. It’s not his problem.

Besides, the heart can break in more than one way, for more than one reason, and he didn’t have any intention of telling him that his heart _has_ been broken, just not in the same way Trunks’ adolescent mind perceives such a notion. Truth be told, it breaks Vegeta’s heart every time he thinks of his brother lying there lifeless, or his father walking out on him… Every time he sees Bulma, one of the strongest people he knows, crying… Or when he hears his daughter beg for him to stay when he has to go, and even now, his heart breaks as he watches Trunks get older and older, and need him less and less…

There came a knock at the door. Vegeta turned to get it, needing a distraction from his thoughts, and he called over his shoulder as he went to answer it, “Usually the man picks up his dates, not the other way around.”

Trunks called back, “What happens in same sex relationships, I wonder? Ahh, you’re the alpha, huh? So you _do_ have something planned, don’t you? You were just waiting for me to leave?”

Vegeta smirked at the smart-assed comment and opened the front door. He wasn’t surprised to find Goten, but Goku was there, too, and for some reason, his jaw slackened and dropped. He asked, regaining his composure, and staring straight up at him, “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Vegeta,” the man smiled that captivating, annoying, perfect smile of his.

“Dad’s just dropping me off!” Goten said cheerily, “Trunks and I are going on a double date!”

Vegeta quirked a brow at the teen but stepped aside so he could pass and enter into the house. That left him and Goku standing in the doorway. Vegeta shifted, and held the door open with his back instead, not sure of what to do. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Goku again, studying his face, waiting for him to say his goodbyes and walk away.

“What happened to you?” Goku asked, pointing at his nose as his eyes slid down to Vegeta’s scraped up knuckles.

“I…” Vegeta glanced down at the evidence of his impulsive decision that was too late to hide. He decided not to even try, but his fingers clenched his arm a little tighter and he said, “I got into a fight…”

“Huh…” Goku muttered, but he didn’t comment further. “Um… May I come in?”

Vegeta stiffened, but he felt like he couldn’t say _no_ , his son is here, after all, so he shrugged and said, “I suppose.”

“Thanks,” was all Goku replied, but he smiled at him again as he walked inside and headed to where the boys were talking excitedly in the dining room.

Vegeta followed nervously. He didn’t know _why_ he felt nervous, but he did. Why the hell did Kakarot want to come inside, anyways?

Goku complimented both of their sons on how sharp they looked and asked them what their plans were, when they were coming back, if he needed to pick Goten up- all the normal things Vegeta supposed responsible fathers should ask. They answered him politely enough, and Trunks maintained that he’d drop Goten off around midnight.

Vegeta suddenly became _very_ suspicious of what their plans _actually_ are. He figured Trunks was going to use his mother’s house as a shack up spot. He stood behind Kakarot and glared at his son. Trunks only grinned, noticing, but ignoring him.

Trunks said, cutting the conversation short, “Come on, Goten, we don’t want to be late.” They left quickly at that, with Trunks avoiding Vegeta’s heavy gaze on the way out.

Vegeta noticed that his son had given Goku an odd stare, but it was too quick to discern much from it, although it put Vegeta a little on edge.

“Seems harmless to me,” Goku said to Vegeta once the boys were gone.

Vegeta smirked, “You’re as innocent as you look,” and they locked eyes.

Goku was giving him an open-ended gaze, as though contemplating that comment and what he meant by it, but then he looked away and changed the topic. Gesturing to the food still sitting on the table, he asked, “Want some help putting all of this away?”

“No,” Vegeta told him, realizing that he’d been staring, and he turned away from him and went back to the task Kakarot had mentioned. He’d been trying to accomplish this for the last ten minutes.

Why the hell are his hands shaking?

He glanced over at the other man and saw that Kakarot was still just hanging around for some reason, staring down at the bags on the counter absentmindedly.

What the hell is he doing here?! Vegeta couldn’t understand it and he needed him to leave, but it _was_ sort of nice to see him. He is a constant, steady vibe of positive energy in his dreary world. His smile made him weak in the knees. Vegeta shook his head at that thought, huffing a little to himself.

Goku seemed to snap out of his stupor a second later, and he reached out to pick through a bag and help him put the groceries away. Vegeta seethed in embarrassment as he reached for items he shouldn’t be touching.

“Stop,” Vegeta told him, grabbing the bag, and now bristling, he snapped, “I said I don’t need your help. Besides, you don’t know where anything goes.” He put the bag under his arm as he headed to his bedroom.

“I bet I can figure it out,” Goku answered sweetly, watching him walk down the hallway before going through some of the other items off of the table anyways.

“I don’t _want_ your help,” Vegeta called, throwing the bag into his room before heading back to the dining room to confront him again.

“Too late,” Goku replied, grinning as he tossed a box into the air and caught it playfully.

In an effort to put pain into the conversation and end this, Vegeta grabbed several groceries from the table and carried them into the kitchen, trying to get away from him, as he sniped, “You don’t know how _not_ to be annoyingly nice, do you?”

“I don’t think it’s annoying for someone to be nice,” Goku replied easily, following him.

“It is,” Vegeta retorted.

“Why? Don’t you _want_ me to be nice to you?” Goku wondered, opening up cupboard doors and putting things away in more or less the right places.

Vegeta watched him out of the corner of his eye as he remarked, getting to the point, “I don’t even want you _here_ and yet _here_ you are!”

Goku grinned and chuckled.

“Something amusing?” Vegeta glared as he passed him to grab more items from the kitchen table.

“Ahh, I was just thinking that you’re really committed, that’s all.”

“Committed?”

“Yeah, you know, to the whole ‘stay away from me, I’m not a nice guy’ gig, but I think you’re really just… Well, _mostly_ just kidding around,” Goku teased.

“ _‘Kidding’?_ ” Vegeta scoffed, “You just refuse to take me seriously.”

Still smiling, and still following him, Goku countered, “Yeah, I’m definitely choosing not to take you seriously.”

“You should,” he challenged, throwing a glare at him over his shoulder as he tried to maintain their distance.

“Or what? You’ll fight me?” Goku said jokingly, “Is that why you got into a fight? Someone _disagreed_ with you?”

Turning away to hide his face and heading back into the kitchen, Vegeta seethed at that remark and answered, “Mind your own damn business or I’ll make your face match mine.”

“Whoa, sorry,” Goku answered, still unbothered as he grabbed more items from off of the table and followed him back into the kitchen. 

Vegeta grumbled but didn’t say anything else about it after that. Neither did Goku. They were practically done putting everything away when Vegeta turned to him, unable to help himself, and said, “Okay, Kakarot, you’ve done your _good deed_ for the day. Now you can go.”

“Well, I was wondering… Do you have plans?” the other man asked.

Surprised by the question and bewildered by Kakarot’s tenaciously cheerful mood, Vegeta stumbled over his answer and told the truth when he should have, _could have_ , just lied, “N-No, of course I don’t, I—”

“Okay!” Goku smiled, “I don’t either. I was thinking that—”

“Whatever you’re going to suggest, Kakarot, I am _not interested_!” he rebutted quickly.

“Well, I _was_ gonna offer to spar with you a little bit, but I can see that you’re probably not up for the challenge right now,” the man goaded.

“I can wipe the floor with you any time,” Vegeta spat, taking the bait, and then he paused, immediately questioning his own logic.

“So, how about it?” Goku grinned.

His grin was equal parts sugar and salt to him, and it grated Vegeta’s nerves to no end, but contemplative, and wanting to remove said smirk, Vegeta asked, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Goku said excitedly, “I have a change of clothes in the car.”

Vegeta started, “Here?!”

“Why not? We can move some things around in your living room,” He gestured with the tilt of his chin, “No strikes, though, yeah? Just, uhh, some light jujitsu?”

Vegeta smirked, intrigued at the idea regardless of his good sense telling him not to indulge him. He murmured, “You’re obsessed.”

“Kinda, yeah,” Goku smiled.

 _‘It seems we do have something in common,’_ Vegeta thought. A moment later he conceded, unable to help himself. He wondered briefly if he should be alarmed, because Kakarot has proven multiple times now that he’s just as manipulative as his ex-wife at getting what he wants from him.

Thirty minutes in and they were both changed and wrestling on the ground. Vegeta was sure to put his jock guard on when he’d changed, to try to hide the hard on he knew would spring up, and it was a good thing he did, because his erection was relentless. Then again, so was Goku.

They were sticking to mostly take down and pins, which resulted in a lot more direct skin on skin contact, and Goku was a bit more vocal about his taunts today than the last two times they sparred. He smirked excitedly every time Vegeta got the upper hand, but being larger in frame and more practiced, he muscled his way out of every hold.

This spar somehow felt more intimate. He didn’t know if it was the other man’s attitude, or their location, or their chosen fighting style, or _what_ exactly, but Vegeta was more turned on than ever at being so well challenged and so close to him like this. All the dirty thoughts he’d been having about him since seeing him last probably didn’t help, either.

Meanwhile, Kakarot was trying his hardest not to damage anything on him that he saw was still healing, and his attentiveness to detail was driving him crazy. It made him want to yell at the man for treating him so tenderly, but it also made him want to stop their fight and just fucking kiss him already.

His desire not to have this end, or to give up, or to give in, was strong, though. 

“Tap out,” Goku grunted above him.

“No…” Vegeta disagreed, as he watched sweat bead down the man’s well contoured cheek. He was trying not to get distracted by the other man’s heady scent and the glistening of his physique, but he imagined licking the sweat off every inch of his body and he wondered what he would taste like…

Licking his lips and mounting his concentration, he managed to finagle himself out of Goku’s hold only to be caught again in another pin ten minutes later.

“Tap out…” Goku smirked again.

“You wish,” Vegeta argued.

Goku chuckled. This continued for another thirty minutes, until Vegeta’s phone went off.

Goku turned at the sound of it, and in his distraction Vegeta flipped their position.

“I give,” Goku huffed. “Time for a break, anyways,” he claimed. Then he wondered, “You gonna answer that?”

Vegeta pulled back, taking a breather. “I’m not expecting a phone call,” he admitted.

Goku’s interest was unquenchable, though. “What if it’s important?”

Vegeta raised a skeptical brow.

“What if it’s Trunks?”

Eyeing him, Vegeta stood up and went to get some bottles of water for them and to check who was calling. It was no one special, as he’d suspected, just some one-night stand who was obviously desperate. Vegeta set his phone down and tossed the water to Goku, drinking his own down quickly.

As the ringer died Vegeta felt odd in both ignoring it in front of the other man, and in the fact that he was ignoring it partly because of the other man. Goku didn’t bring up the call again, though.

Vegeta grabbed another bottle for them both and then realized that he didn’t know what he should be doing right now. Goku needed to leave. This encounter was far, far out of Vegeta’s comfort zone. He didn’t know how to get rid of him, though, and he didn’t _necessarily_ want him to go.

“You hungry?” Goku asked him.

Still questioning what’s come over him, Vegeta admitted that he was.

Goku smiled, standing up from his seated position on the ground, he joked, pointing at the kitchen, “Got anything to eat in there?”

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he disappeared into the kitchen more to get away from him than anything else. He thought of the quickest, easiest thing he could make, and so he turned on the oven to preheat it for a pizza. Two actually. He didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t a cook, and he couldn’t tell Kakarot that he _didn’t_ have anything to eat since the man had helped him put away his groceries.

He didn’t know why he was giving in to Kakarot’s requests. He shouldn’t even be _thinking_ about fucking the man- so if he wasn’t going to get that satisfaction, why was he allowing this to happen? For the company? Is his company really all that nice?!

_‘…Yes…’_

Vegeta should be _pissed_ right now. This is unexpected, unasked for company. At _his_ house _._ Company that wasn’t looking to get laid, even! Company that had invited himself over and was now asking to be _fed_.

Vegeta shook his head. The dopamine from their workout was coursing through him, he supposed, and his personal, unspoken discomfort at the situation wasn’t enough to make him angry or completely disagreeable at the moment.

He came out of the kitchen to find that Kakarot was looking through his bookshelves. He watched him silently, taking in his every detail. The man just looked so confident and at ease. And sexy, he had to admit, with the way his dampened shirt was clinging to his back and how his pants were hugging his hips and ass.

Vegeta didn’t understand him at all. What does he want? He _knows_ Vegeta’s into men at this point, so why the hell is he _here_?

Vegeta wondered. And doubted.

He offered, trying to get him out of his hair for a little while, “You can take a shower here…” _‘I guess…’_

“Thanks!” Goku said, turning to him, “You don’t mind?”

Vegeta only looked away.

“I’ll be quick,” Goku hummed, “You going to take one, too.”

“Of course!” he snapped back, “I’m not an animal!”

“Okay,” Goku laughed.

Vegeta pointed in the direction of the spare bathroom and said, “There should be extra towels in there already.”

“Thanks.” Another smile.

_‘Don’t fucking thank me just go so I can have a minute to figure out what the hell is going on!’_

Goku was already gone, though, having grabbed his bag and his water and walked off while Vegeta was in the middle of his mental crisis.

Vegeta was a complete wreck. Even with Kakarot now out of sight, he certainly isn’t out of mind, or better, and _safer_ , out of his home.

He waited for the oven to preheat and then put the pizzas inside before disappearing to his bedroom to shower himself. The shower only helped to sooth his muscles, but it did _not_ help with his hard on, which Vegeta had to flash cold water with to go away, and it did _not_ help to ease his mind.

He was aware that he hadn’t thought this through. Kakarot mentioned the word “spar” and Vegeta jumped. He didn’t stop for a second to consider anything after that. Now that he _has_ to, he didn’t know what to think.

When he came back out Goku was finished, dressed back in the clothes he’d came over in, and looking around his house again.

“What are you doing?” Vegeta asked him, irritated by him, and himself, especially now that he has nothing to distract or preoccupy himself with.

“Nothing,” Goku smiled.

Vegeta noticed that the man had taken the liberty of putting his living room back together again, and now he was going through his movies. He heard the oven go off, thankfully, and took it as his cue to escape. He was running out of escape options, though.

“Want to watch a movie?” Goku asked, calling to him from the living room, his voice full of hope and mirth.

Vegeta could die. The answer is _no,_ of course! Why does Kakarot seem to feel so _comfortable_ with him?! Why isn’t he put off by him?! Why is he still _here_?! _And trying to stay longer?!_

Vegeta didn’t answer.

“Is this a good one?” Goku asked, coming into the kitchen, and showing him his pick.

 _‘Actually, yes…’_ Vegeta thought, but then he said, “You really want to watch a movie?”

“Yeah.”

“With me?”

Goku laughed, “Yeah.”

Vegeta just stared at him.

Goku came closer and leaned against the counter, looking over the movie he’d picked and then looking over at the pizza. He asked, “Are they ready?”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Yes, but wait a damn minute, you ravenous empty pit,” he scolded, and then he snatched the movie from Goku’s hand. Goku smiled at the jest. Vegeta glared at him.

Damn it, he just couldn’t turn him away without indulging him a little bit. He glared at him for another second but then went to the living room to put the movie in. He didn’t know what else to do. Hopefully with the movie on at least they won’t have to _talk_.

When he came back into the kitchen, Goku had already found the pizza cutter and sliced them both up. He’d also found plates and paper towels.

Vegeta’s whole body burned in embarrassment. He couldn’t handle this. What even _is_ this?!

“Got any beer?” Goku wondered.

 _‘Fuck, yes, I need a drink!’_ Vegeta thought. “In the fridge,” he mumbled. He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this.

The next thing he knew they were both sitting on the couch, a good distance away from one another, of course, eating and drinking a beer, while innocently watching a fucking movie. Vegeta didn’t _want_ to glance over at him but he couldn’t help himself. He looked so content. And preoccupied. Completely immersed in the film. He looked away.

Vegeta tried to focus. He didn’t know why he couldn’t. The movie that Kakarot had picked is one of Vegeta’s favorites. He doesn’t watch many, but this particular genre is his top choice, and this particular movie is one he could watch again and again and still find interest in. He determined he was going to try to be interested in it now, but he was admittedly having a hard time.

A few minutes later Goku turned to glance at him and Vegeta pretended to ignore it.

It didn’t take Vegeta long to realize that this isn’t working. Pretending _not_ to think about the other _man_ casually sitting on _his_ couch in _his_ living room was getting him nowhere. He got up to go to the kitchen to grab himself another beer, hoping that inebriation would help take some of the edge off. He grabbed one for Goku as well. When he came back, he handed Goku the can. Goku smiled as took it from him and then went back to watching the movie.

Vegeta tried to do the same, but he couldn’t get into it. He couldn’t relax or get comfortable. His skin was itching he was so self-conscious about what exactly was going on.

He heard Kakarot say, turning to face him, “Is this movie long?”

Vegeta’s head snapped over to look at him. Finally, a string of hope! Maybe he has to go soon! “Yes,” he told him.

“It seems complicated, too, huh?”

Vegeta smirked, “Definitely.”

Goku looked back at the screen. Vegeta had to tear his eyes off of him but he managed.

Another minute passed and Goku was looking at him again.

Vegeta couldn’t take it. He turned and snapped at him, “What now?”

“Oh, uhh,” he stalled.

“What the hell are you staring at me for?”

“… I was just wondering about the fight you got into…”

“Well stop!”

Turning his body to face him more fully, Goku countered, “What happened?”

“It’s none of your concern,” Vegeta grumbled. He set his eyes back on the TV and clenched his jaw, “Watch the damn movie. You’re the one that said you wanted to watch it in the first place.”

Goku was still staring at him, though.

“ _What?!_ ” Vegeta remarked, turning back to him.

Goku confessed, “It’s just…” he reached out, suddenly, grabbing onto Vegeta’s chin, and tilting his face up a little. Vegeta was too shocked by his touch to react at first and Goku was saying, “The bruise on your nose, it’s been healing for a while now, hasn’t it? That must have hurt. It definitely seems like you got into a fight, but those marks on your hands, that doesn’t look like marks from you punching someone. It looks like you punched some _thing_. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Unhand me!” Vegeta barked, lifting his chin out of Goku’s hold and glaring at him, his face flushing at his touch. “I told you to mind your own damn business!”

Goku pouted and said, “I just find it hard to believe that someone could hurt you like that. And you’re being so casual about it, like you get into fights all the time. Was it someone you know?”

“No!” Vegeta yipped, recoiling.

“Well, I dunno, Vegeta. It just doesn’t make much sense. You look more like you got into a car wreck than a fight…”

Vegeta stood up at that, saying, “Stop analyzing me, Kakarot!” and he stormed into the kitchen to get away from him, taking his beer with him. He chugged it down and then grabbed another one from the fridge before he yelled, “If you don’t want to watch the damn movie that _you picked out_ then why don’t you just fucking leave already?! I don’t even know what you’re doing here in the first place! You fucking nosy—”

Goku was there, in the kitchen, standing in front of him when he turned around. The rest of Vegeta’s sardonic comment got choked down.

Goku frowned down at him, not mad, but upset. He asked, his tone calm and concerned, “Why can’t you just tell me what really happened, Vegeta?”

“Why can’t you just drop it?” he argued.

Goku asked, and his eyes laden with worry, “Because, I… Would you tell me if there _was_ something wrong?”

“No!” Vegeta told him, “I’m perfectly fucking fine. Worry about yourself.”

Goku marveled, “I just don’t get it.”

Vegeta turned away and took another drink. “There’s nothing to _get_. I said I’m fine.”

“It doesn’t _look_ like you’re fine,” Goku countered, setting his own beer down on the countertop.

“You would have been none the wiser of my injuries if you hadn’t forced your way into my apartment tonight,” Vegeta told him, glaring back at him, “What difference does it make to you? I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” Goku nodded, “But something’s not adding up. I mean, you’re really strong, and… I don’t know, it kind of seems like you’re in a bad mood about it, too.”

Ignoring the rest of Kakarot’s frustratingly sound logic, Vegeta countered, “This _is_ my mood.”

“All of the time?” Goku asked, half-smiling, like he hoped Vegeta would see how nonsensical he sounds.

He did, but he still answered, “Yes. All of the time.”

Goku shook his head, “You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe what you want,” Vegeta said, raising his chin a little indignantly as he took another drink.

Goku picked up his beer again and took a drink himself before he replied, “Okay, Vegeta, have it your way. But if this _is_ your mood, _all of the time,_ then _why_ are you always in such a bad mood?”

Vegeta countered, “Why are _you_ always in such a perpetually, _annoyingly_ _good_ mood?”

He hummed, “My good mood bothers you?”

“Yes!” Vegeta argued, but he thought, _‘No, actually,’_ and looked away from him again.

Goku seemed to be contemplating what he was saying. What he wasn’t saying. What he meant. Finally, he replied, “Look, I know something’s bothering you, and you clearly don’t want to talk about it, but—”

Vegeta blustered, “Oh, you do? Really? Was I _that_ _obvious?_ I thought that _by now_ you would have gotten it through that thick skull of yours that I don’t talk about things.”

Goku’s expression drooped, “Yeah…”

“I wasn’t expecting you to come over here tonight, Kakarot, and I’ve humored you enough, already, haven’t I? I don’t need you trying to pry into my personal business.”

Goku looked puzzled at that. “Are you… still mad at me for something?”

“I’m not- I was never- No!” Vegeta fumbled, and then recovered by saying, “I don’t even _think_ about you!”

After a moment, Goku answered with a resounding question. “You sure about that?”

“I—” Vegeta balked.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you,” he fidgeted a little, admitting, “that I think about you.”

Vegeta hesitated, surprised, but stated, hardened, “Don’t,” and he thought, _‘ **Fuck** , don’t tell me that. Take it back.’_

Goku reached up with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, saying, “I’m pretty sure you think about me, too. Don’t you? I mean, for someone who says that they _don’t_ think about me, you sure get riled up whenever I’m around.”

Blushing, and his whole body tensing, Vegeta declared, “You don’t know what I’m like when you’re **not** around!” and in denial, he remarked, “I am _not_ affected by you whatsoever!”

Goku sighed and said, leaning against the counter. Licking his lips, he told him, “I was kinda hoping we’d be past the whole ‘we can’t be friends’ thing by now.”

“Well, we’re not!” Vegeta objected.

“Really?” He asked with disbelief in Vegeta’s counterpoint and a confidence that Vegeta found incredibly attractive.

Vegeta couldn’t answer and he began to wonder what the man was getting at.

Goku smiled, “Come on, Vegeta.”

Vegeta was exasperated, and baffled. Kakarot couldn’t possibly be saying what he _thinks_ he’s saying, but if he is, he wanted him to make himself _perfectly clear_. _He needed him to make himself perfectly clear._

Goku took a step forward, his eyes still studying Vegeta’s face. He asked, more serious than usual, “You don’t like the idea of us spending time together?”

Vegeta couldn’t reply.

“Do you actually want me to leave? Honestly?”

Vegeta snapped, not answering either question directly, “I’m surprised you _want_ to spend time with me! In fact, I’m downright _shocked_ that you’re still here!”

“I like…” Goku started, blinking, reaching for the right words, and finally coming out with, “I like sparring with you. And I know you like it, too, remember? We talked about this.” He smiled again, and this time it was endearing, and somehow poignant, like he was trying to say that he just wanted Vegeta to drop the act already.

He couldn’t, though. “Sparring does not equal _friendship_!” Vegeta remarked, exaggerating the last word, still trying to feel out which side of the thin line the other man was on. “We talked about _that_ , too! Apparently, I need to clarify a few things with you!”

In a hopeful voice, but remaining no more explicative, Goku argued, “What about the other night?”

“You mean when I was stuck at your house?!”

“We had dinner together—”

“You ordered food and I happened to be there,” Vegeta argued semi-logically.

“I thought we had a good time.”

“I- that entire evening was just circumstantial.”

“What about right now?” he mumbled, coming closer.

“You invited yourself inside of my home!”

“You let me stay,” he reasoned.

“This wasn’t _planned_ , Kakarot!”

“I’m not really a ‘plan things’ kind of guy.”

“And I’m not a _‘friendship’_ type of man!” _‘What the fuck are you getting at?!’_ He wondered, heart knocking, _‘Where the hell this conversation is going?!’_

Goku smiled softly, “I’m not asking you to change who you are.”

“Then what do you want?!” _‘Damn it, just say it!’_ he thought.

Goku laughed nervously, “I… I told you that I want to spend time with you. And get to know you.”

“Absolutely not!” Vegeta cried in dismay, still not hearing what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t _need_ to hear what he _wanted_ to hear, for both their sakes. He decided that this has to end, so he said, “I expressly told you that you should stay away from me, Kakarot.”

Goku hummed, “I didn’t think you were _serious_.”

“Obviously!”

Silent, Goku stared at him.

Vegeta stared back.

Goku chuckled, “You’re just bluffing again.”

“I am doing no such thing!” Vegeta barked, teeming with anxiety as he resisted the urge to step away from him. “I am not the type of man that just _befriends_ random fucking strangers, unlike _you_. You have been trying to force yourself into my life ever since we first met!”

Goku drew his brows together, and gave him an imploring look, until he finally asked, “What’s the real problem, Vegeta? Because I don’t think it’s me.”

“What?!” _‘… **Damn** …’_

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not _afraid_!” Vegeta growled, “I’m just… not interested!” he felt his face flush at his lie, and he added, “I could give you about _six_ reasons off the top of my head on _why_ I don’t want to be _friends_ with you, but that wouldn’t even begin to cover the _half_ of it—”

A noise interrupted him. It was his phone going off again in the other room.

Goku turned at the sound of it, and then he looked back at Vegeta. He murmured, “Am I keeping you?”

“I-?! No-! I don’t know why they keep calling me! Damn it, I just want to be left alone! Is that too much to ask?!”

Something in the depth of Kakarot’s eyes looked somewhat perplexed. Finally, the man said, “I guess I’ll go.”

“Good!” Vegeta sneered, heart pounding in his chest, but now that it had come down to it and Kakarot had turned to leave, he knew that it wasn’t what he wanted at all, and he regretted chasing him off.

“Before I do,” Goku added, turning back to him and taking another step forward, “There’s one more thing I have to say, and I want you to really think about this, Vegeta…”

“What?!” Vegeta growled. He hardly knew what to expect at this point; he hardly knew what to feel.

Goku hesitated, leaned forward, then pulled back and said, “Never mind… Goodnight, Vegeta.”

Goku turned and began to leave. Vegeta huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. His damn phone was still going off in the other room and he was doing his best to remain as unbothered by everything as he possibly could. It wasn’t working, though, and his heart was pounding in his chest, but he only had to hold off expressing any emotions for a few more seconds as he could hear that Kakarot was currently fumbling with his belongings and the door to his escape.

When Vegeta heard the front door open and close, he let out an audible sigh. He turned and placed both of his hands on the counter, shaking his head in dismay. He was half-convinced that Kakarot had tried to kiss him just then, but he couldn’t be sure. What the hell _was_ all of that, exactly? He kept trying to pry it out of him, but he wasn’t taking the bait.

He picked up his beer and took another drink, still trembling slightly, just as he had been when Kakarot had first come inside a couple of hours ago. He’d done the right thing, though, by running him off. Right? They _couldn’t_ … Kakarot doesn’t… Vegeta _shouldn’t_ … He took another drink.

When he heard what sounded like his front door being opened again, he put his drink down and walked out of the kitchen just in time to see Kakarot coming through it. There was a serious, albeit somewhat hazy look in his eyes.

“Kakarot…” Vegeta startled as the man threw his bag down and waltzed right up to him.

When Goku kissed him, he wasn’t ready for it, even though he’d seen it coming a mile away, what with the way that Kakarot had completely committed this time, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close, while his eyes caught him in a heated gaze. He wasn’t expecting the hand that reached up and touched his cheek gently, tentatively. His touch was unsure but comforting, soft, and yet still heavy, with purpose.

He wasn’t ready for the reality of this remarkable man leaning forward and pressing the softness of his lips fully against his own as one of his hands clutched tighter to his back, and the other drew down his cheek, onto the nape of his neck, and into his hair. He wasn’t expecting his scent to hit him so hard, or his chiseled body to come perfectly flush against his, scorching him to the bone.

He wasn’t expecting the tender hint of Kakarot’s nose gently brushing against his as he pulled away. He’d done it on purpose, as a sign of affection if Vegeta had ever experienced such a thing. The movement was airy and wistful, not forceful enough to hurt his damaged face, and just endearing and lingering enough to leave it up to a brief riveting question of whether or not he was going to kiss him again. But he just kept pulling away, and he let go of his hold on Vegeta’s neck and his waist so quickly compared to how slow motioned everything else had seemed. _Too quickly and too soon_.

Goku whispered, suddenly a little timid, a little unsure, “So, yeah, that’s all I have to say… You think about it, okay? And we’ll talk later… Goodnight, Vegeta.” He turned, picked up his bag again, and walked back out the door.

Vegeta didn’t move from the spot he’d been standing in until well after Kakarot had left, and only when his phone pinged for a text message, did he notice the movie they’d been watching still playing in the background. He ignored his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, or just, you know, have a great week!


	10. 10

10

Two weeks went by, and so far, Vegeta has been successful in not having to deal with the physical existence of his internal crisis. In other words, Kakarot hasn’t called, or texted, or even shown up unannounced how he seems to like to do.

It’s been a nightmare of a fortnight, regardless, and Vegeta found himself constantly reminded of the man, whether by outside influences or his own overactive imagination. In spite of his half-hearted desire to forget about his kiss entirely and move on, he had an evil twin urging to call Kakarot and demand him to explain what the hell he meant by kissing him like that and then just… walking away.

Kakarot had told Vegeta that they would talk about it later, but how does he define later? _When_ is later? And talk about _what,_ exactly?!

Vegeta couldn’t deny the obvious suggestions, and yet he still doubted all the same.

Why in the world is the man interested in him? He told him he cheated on his wife! The guy _knows_ that he’s sexually active, and he’s been nothing but a prick to him ever since they met!

He thought about that night, their conversation, their every encounter before all of that- he thought about everything- and none of it made any sense to him.

Goku had told Vegeta to think about it, too, but think about _what_? About their kiss?! Vegeta definitely thought about _that_. He thought long and hard about it- he couldn’t _stop_ thinking about their kiss even though it was driving him crazy and distracting him from his normal routine.

He was distracted at the gym, uninterested whenever anyone hit on him. He was distracted while he was working, stray thoughts of Kakarot coming to him at odd times, and he was almost jumpy, even, whenever Trunks had Goten over. Especially when Goten was over.

Trunks was keen enough on his own to make Vegeta extra careful, but there was something quizzical in Goten’s eyes that made Vegeta anxious about hiding the fact that the boy’s father had come on to him. Does he know? Did Kakarot mention it? Is he making up those strange looks the boy keeps giving him? He has to be, right? And Kakarot wouldn’t do that, would he? Vegeta couldn’t be sure, but he assumed Kakarot wasn’t _that_ open with his son.

One small slip from either of them, though, and both of their children would know right away that something was going on. Even though _nothing_ was going on _now_.

Kakarot clearly has not thought this through and Vegeta was thinking far too much about it for the both of them.

Vegeta grew nauseous, too, when Gohan had called him to ask him a question about their latest project. He’d asked the boy how he even got him number, to which he replied that Bulma had given it to him because she’s simply too busy to answer small questions. Vegeta had only huffed and answered his questions to the best of his abilities, but it made him uncomfortable to know that he was talking to Kakarot’s eldest son who knows nothing about the situation between himself and his father.

Does Kakarot even know that Vegeta now works with his son? Should he tell him that?! They’re not _dating_ , he doesn’t owe him any explanations…

Under any other circumstances Vegeta would be excited that the man is interested in him, and he was definitely _shocked_ , but he wasn’t excited: He was terrified.

Is Kakarot’s end game to turn their feeble _sparring_ relationship into something of a budding romance? That _has_ to be what he wants- there’s no other explanation! All his talk about wanting to spend time together and get to know one another better. He _wants_ to _date_ him.

Vegeta thought about it and decided that there’s no way he could allow that to happen. He’s never dated a man openly and Kakarot knows too much of his family to hope to keep it a secret for long even if he did give in to the temptation. Besides, Kakarot hasn’t called him once in the last two weeks! And his complete _and obviously busy_ absence in his life even after kissing him on a whim he still didn’t understand is just enough to prove that 1) he must not be that serious about him and 2) they are clearly not in any position to start a relationship in the first place.

Vegeta’s pretty sure that the man, if anything, is just attracted to him and not really thinking beyond what his dick wants, anyways. So, just to be safe, he never wants to see him again.

He doesn’t need to add him as a notch on his bedpost to feel satisfied when it’s clear that he _could_ have him if he wanted him, and a one-night stand is not a good enough excuse to jump into the dating scene again, especially with him. So, Kakarot is not allowed in his house anymore and Vegeta’s definitely not going back to _his_ house. He’s not going back to his gym, either, for that matter. They will _never_ see each other again, at least, not outside of what is now bound to be unavoidable casual circumstances due to their son’s friendship and Vegeta’s job at Capsule Corp. with Gohan.

That’s a whole _different_ issue Vegeta has yet to contend with, on top of the rest of his unfinished business.

That damned stupid kiss should have never even happened and the best way to prevent another one, is to cut it off now and leave nothing up to question, even if that means denying that anything ever happened in the first place.

Deny, deny, deny. Ignore. _Avoid_.

Besides, Vegeta was still thinking about Bulma’s little chat with him about their children. About just how fast his little girl is growing up and the fact that he really isn’t there for her enough. About Trunks getting ready to graduate in three months and then he’ll be gone after that, off on his own.

Vegeta thought about himself and what his personal plans are because things are _still_ not how he wants them. What does he even want, anymore? Sometimes he feels like he doesn’t even know himself at all.

He’d always had some sort of goal to reach for when he was young: he got out of the slums, he made a name for himself, he _earned_ his money, then he graduated college, he got married, he had kids- he’d finally _made_ it. Hell, even when he first got divorced, he had _some_ goals in mind, but ever since walking away from Bulma and Bra, and trying desperately to pull the reigns in on Trunks, he realized that he’s lost some of that spark that used to make him excited about conquering every new day. He wasn’t sure why the spark ever left him, but it did, and he’s been skimming by for so long now. He’s fallen into a rut of constantly repeating the same mistakes ever since he’s been left up to his own devices, that now he’s into so many bad habits that even he can admit he’s not proud of, and he loathes nearly all of them.

He’s lost touch with what it was that excited him in the first place, and he’s forgotten what it was like to have goals for himself.

Is he going through a fucking mid-life crisis?!

He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was bothering him. He works for a huge company, at a great rate. His rent is paid. His children are healthy and well provided for. His still young enough, and healthy and fit, and he recognized that for the first time in a long time he is in a stable environment and he was… _grateful_ , but he hates absolutely everything about his current circumstances.

He’d have to end it with Capsule Corp. eventually. He’s mooching off his ex-wife, after all. At least, that’s how he sees it, but for some reason, although he has most things squared away at the moment, he still feels like something just isn’t right. Something is missing.

He doesn’t do well in content situations. He’s a survivor, a warrior, so to speak, hardened from tough times, always utilizing creative thinking, and making personal forward progress in one area or another. He is not a complacent, “live in the moment” sort of man. He’s also very self-destructive, regardless of how hard he tries not to be.

He didn’t know why the emptiness inside of him was still trying to swallow him whole and for some terrible reason, Drunk Vegeta always brings it up. Always.

Sober Vegeta can logically cut through the weakened arguments of Drunk Vegeta, and Drunk Vegeta is far too pathetic to be considered as a worthy opponent to Sober Vegeta, although he does bring up some rather valid points. Or, at least, he touches on some subjects that Sober Vegeta would _never_ indulge his time with.

Like now, for instance, his overworking brain is trying to sift through the reminders of his failures as he tries to find a shred of evidence that he’s heading in the right direction. What _is_ the right direction? He doesn’t know, and he simply isn’t going to let himself wallow in self-pity. Again. He just can’t go take it there, especially after last time, when he’d ended up punching that damn mirror that he finally ended up fixing two days ago.

He’d been trying to decode it all, without going down that rabbit hole, for far too long at this point.

Sober Vegeta decided that Sober Vegeta needed more airtime, and a solid distraction, so, on one not so particular day, he called up Bulma and told her that he intended to pick up Bra after school. The woman was delighted. Vegeta could only groan, but deep down, he knew he was doing the right thing, something good for once, even though he didn’t know how long it would last.

All the way to his daughter’s school he kept thinking that he didn’t know what the hell had come over him to do this. Even as he got out of his car and stood by it to wait for her, he didn’t know what to expect, but when Bra’s eyes lit up at the sight of him standing there, calling out to her as she walked out to head to the bus, even he couldn’t hide the smirk that crept onto his face.

“Papa, really?! You mean we get to do whatever I want?!”

“Within reason,” he maintained.

She squealed, waving her friends goodbye, and they got into his car and drove off.

The next few hours were interesting to Vegeta to say the least. He’d never spent any time like this with his daughter, with just the two of them out doing whatever.

 _‘She sure is spoiled,’_ he noted, but he didn’t mind that fact. She deserved to be.

He took her shopping and bought whatever she wanted, which was mostly silly little girly things, and then they stopped for food and some ice cream. After that she insisted that she gets to play in the playground near the mall, but Vegeta told her it was just too cold outside. He dropped her off at home after that.

Bulma caught him, then, and they spent some time talking over things that Vegeta’s good mood allowed, but he cut it short when he realized that “some time” had turned into ten o’clock at night. Bulma needed to get some rest and Vegeta needed to get back home.

“Oh, and Vegeta,” she told him, just before he left, “We have a Capsule Corp. meeting coming up next week. Friday at noon. I’d like for you to be there.”

He grunted. He could do that. He left quickly. In all of their conversation, he didn’t bother telling her that he was looking for another job. He didn’t want to start another fight.

Friday at noon came, and Vegeta found himself sitting next to Gohan in a meeting he felt could have been done as a conference call. He _wished_ it had been done as a conference call, because too many eyes were on him, and while he wasn’t usually one to feel uncomfortable with attention, he was certainly one to get annoyed at blatant staring.

Still, he tried to will himself to remain calm. There were enough people there that he shouldn’t have felt so singled out, but every time someone glanced his direction, he turned and glared right back, and every time, they startled and looked away.

“What a terrible fucking idea,” he muttered to himself as one of the speakers was droning on.

Gohan whispered, tilting his head a little closer, “Are you talking about the presentation?”

“Hn,” Vegeta shifted, his eyes flickering to those around them. He didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing their gossip, personal, business, or otherwise.

Gohan smiled at him, amused about something, even though he didn’t respond.

Vegeta smirked back after a second. The young man might not have known what Vegeta was referring to, but in spite of his cheery disposition, it was clear that he was just too damn bright for his own good, but Vegeta doubted he could catch on to subtleties so quickly as he could mathematics.

Once the first half of the meeting was over and the employees were allowed to break before a final briefing, Gohan headed over to the buffet to get something to eat, while Vegeta headed outside in an attempt to avoid everyone else. He passed several people looking at him, talking about him, but he ignored them, even as he caught a glimpse of several familiar faces, and many more unfamiliar ones. There were too many of them to be discerning about and there was too much chatter going on about _him_ to bother sticking around to place the faces that he thought he recognized.

_“What is he doing here?”_

_“There’s no way Ms. Briefs hired him back, unless…”_

_“I saw him sitting next to that young man, too… I wonder…”_

_“Don’t even speak to him. He won’t be here long.”_

_“He’s got the worst attitude of anyone I know.”_

Vegeta threw the pamphlet he’d been given in the trash on his way out the backdoors, ignoring their every remark. He knew no one would be out here, Bulma had a separate place designated for smokers, and leaving a meeting at Capsule Corp. was not something any employee would brave unless it was an emergency.

He sighed to himself, and he leaned against the side of the building as he contemplated whether or not he was even going to go back inside, but he didn’t want to tarnish Bulma’s name any more than he already had just by being here. Not that she cares about their gossip, but it still bothered him, even after all these years.

He tried to put names to some of the faces that he knew, but he couldn’t manage to place all of them. He didn’t know why he cared to do so, anyways. He didn’t know why he came here in the first place when he knew he could get the information on his own. He didn’t know why he’d even agreed to work here again!

He didn’t care what they thought about him, but what they thought about Bulma… he didn’t like the idea of stirring up unrest in her company over their prior affairs. He tried to let it go, and reconsidered going back inside many times, but the choice wasn’t easy.

“Hey,” a voice startled him. He turned and saw Gohan, of all people. Of course, he _would_ follow him. The fool.

“Go back inside,” Vegeta told him, turning his head away from him.

“Vegeta… I… Are you okay?”

“You shouldn’t be out here. Go. Now,” Vegeta remarked in a biting tone, now glaring at him.

Gohan’s brows drew together as he pondered his words, but he nodded at him quickly and did as he was told.

The meeting started back up again ten minutes later, and Vegeta stood in the back of the conference room, arms crossed as he listened. When it was over, he was the first to leave, and no amount of small talk from those who dared to come up to him on his way out could tempt him into staying any longer.

The next day, Vegeta was yet again sitting on the couch and finishing up some work on his computer. Goten and Trunks were like a whirlwind through the house, going on and on about Spring Break and how much fun they were going to have at beach in a few weeks. Vegeta tried his best to ignore them, but it was difficult to do so, and he thought about Kakarot yet again, like he did every time he saw Goten, which was becoming remarkably often. It seemed like the kid practically lived in his home at this point.

He’d finally caved and looked into the man that had been haunting his thoughts, like he usually does with men who say they’re interested in him. He didn’t know why it took him so long to look into him in the first place, but once he did, he was surprised at the information he found. There wasn’t much, especially in the way of details about the man’s upbringing, or his personality, or even his current job as a Protector, but there was one site dedicated to him, which listed his gym, and his credentials as a trainer. Aside from that, there was this “World Martial Arts Tournament” thing, which Goku had received several gold medals in from winning first place over his career as a fighter.

Vegeta huffed at the information, impressed. He felt a little better when he considered that obviously the man _is_ a professional fighter, and the fact that he’s been holding his own against him in sparring is something he should be at least a little proud of, at any rate.

Kakarot’s fighting record was top tier. He was undefeated, except for his first match, which he’d entered at a very young age. There was a long list of entries after that. His profile was well stated, too, albeit private. It was probably written by Gohan, if Vegeta had to guess, and he was intrigued to try and discover more, but there wasn’t much else out there. Goku didn’t have any dating profiles. There was no Facebook page for him, no Instagram, no Twitter. Nothing. Just the one webpage, and several YouTube videos of his fights.

Vegeta glanced up as he heard a cackle rise from the boy’s lips, he switched screens for second, trying to focus back on his work.

It wasn’t working, though. All he could think of was Kakarot. He had half a mind to ask Goten what his father’s been up to, but he refused to do any such thing. It was bad enough that he’d been preoccupying so much of his time in obsessing over the man by looking through his website, and he may or may not have watched every single fight that there was taped of Kakarot a total combined number of over a hundred times, but that’s _nobody’s business but his._

He switched screens again and became engulfed as he watched a particular video of one of Kakarot’s fights that struck Vegeta with some degree of admiration. The damn man fights like a machine. Poised, clever, _deadly_. Vegeta couldn’t deny that he was something else to watch, but he certainly wasn’t going to start “fangirling” over the man.

He didn’t even know why he was stalking him.

Besides, Kakarot’s the one that said they would talk later, and if Kakarot wants to see him again, he’s just going to have to do something about it himself. Vegeta hoped he didn’t, though. Well, part of him hoped he didn’t, another part of him wondered why he _hadn’t_. Even though he didn’t think it would be right for the two of them to start something that would surely end, he still wondered why Kakarot hasn’t called all the same.

It doesn’t matter. Kakarot is a sensitive widower, and Vegeta is an insensitive divorcee. It’s just not a good combination.

Besides, Vegeta told him that he’s not a relationship guy, didn’t he? Maybe Kakarot decided that he shouldn’t have done that. Honestly, Vegeta just wished he could stop thinking about him. It’s not like Kakarot’s thinking about him. He hasn’t called, after all.

Trunks was suddenly standing in front of him, trying to get his attention as Vegeta flipped the screen over and resumed typing away at his computer.

“What do you want?” Vegeta asked, annoyed and slightly embarrassed at himself.

“Goten and I are gonna go get some food… There’s nothing to eat in this house…” his son stated.

Oh, _that again_. Vegeta grunted in approval, still typing. The boys left quickly.

He realized, after they left and the apartment was quiet, that he was getting hungry, too, and that he was tired of staying in, and that it’s the fucking weekend and he needs to get a life. He inserted as an afterthought that he’s definitely been working too much. An hour later, he grabbed his suitcoat and a nice jacket and headed out himself.

He didn’t know what he wanted to eat, and it was too early to go bar crawling, not that he’d done that in a while, _not since Kakarot had kissed him_ …

Damn it! Why is he thinking about him again?! _‘Food, Vegeta. Food…’_

He was driving around aimlessly when his phone went off through the Bluetooth in his car. It was probably Bulma. She was probably going to bitch at him. She must have something to say about the poor impression he’d made at yesterday’s meeting, he was sure. He answered it quickly, sarcastically, and absentmindedly. “Yes?”

A small lighthearted laugh answered, “I hope that’s gonna be your response to my next question!”

“Kakarot!” Vegeta stifled a gasp. He should have looked at the damn caller ID. He suddenly felt anxious. Damn that man for making him feel things he usually has no problems with and for always, _always_ catching him off guard.

“I’m hungry,” Goku told him, his voice far too amplified around him for Vegeta’s sensitive ears.

“… Why are you telling me this?” Vegeta argued, never too sidelined to still be a dick.

“You want to grab a bite?”

Vegeta’s heart flipped.

“I can meet you somewhere?”

Vegeta didn’t reply in his apprehension.

“… Are you… Driving right now?”

Vegeta growled. “Yes, Kakarot,” he said.

“Ah, I could hear the echo.”

Vegeta could practically hear his _smile_. He grunted, dismayed, “Then why did you bother asking?”

The man laughed, “Just wondering…”

Vegeta was fully blushing now for some reason. Probably from the thought of their last encounter, and how casual Kakarot seems. And how long it’s been since he last talked to him. And from just talking to him _period_. His only extenuative was the fact that Kakarot couldn’t see him, but he still felt exposed, somehow.

“You were just going out to eat, weren’t you? Where are you going?” Goku offered excitedly.

“What makes you think I’m going out alone?” Vegeta smirked.

“Well, you answered your phone, Vegeta, and I’ve seen you ignore calls before. You could have just ignored _my_ call if you had plans, or, I don’t know, I feel like you would have said that first. You’re not really shy about shutting me down, haha.”

 _‘Damn him!’_ Vegeta thought.

Goku asked, never skipping a beat, “So, how ‘bout it? I’ll meet ya somewhere! Where were you going?”

It was an honest question. Vegeta could just tell. He has no underlying meaning behind his request.

Vegeta _hated_ the man’s honesty. He hated the way his voice was currently assaulting his ears. He hated that he was contemplating giving in to him. He hated himself for even trying to play games with him. He hated that it took him so long to call. He hated that he didn’t want to say no.

He huffed in exasperation.

“Is that a yes?” Goku asked him, sounding hopeful and amused.

“That depends…” Vegeta wavered. He didn’t know why he was giving in to him. Well, he _knew_ **_why_** , but he also knew _better_. Then he got a great idea. A _fucked-up_ idea, but a hilarious one, nonetheless. To him, anyways. He baited, “Have you ever been to Atera?”

“Never even heard of it.”

Vegeta grinned, “Meet me there in twenty minutes.”

“Okay!” Goku replied, his voice sounding almost childlike in his excitement. “I’ll see ya soon!”

He hung up, thank heavens, because Vegeta thought he was going to have a panic attack with the man’s voice surrounding him like that. When was he going to stop being so sensitive to every little thing about him?

Wait- where did _that_ thought come from?

Vegeta shook his head to rid himself of the very idea of him being _sensitive,_ much less sensitive _for someone_. He was already only five minutes away from Atera, and although he knew there was usually a bit of a wait, he also knew that if he name-dropped “Briefs” he’d get right in, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

This particular restaurant is very upscale, not in Kakarot’s tastes at all. They turn any guest away if they aren’t dressed in nice attire, and he didn’t tell Kakarot to dress up on purpose, to send a message. He didn’t bother telling him the name the table would be under, either. He was hoping that they’d turn him away at the front door and he’d get the point. Kakarot would probably waste some time waiting for him out front, and he might even reconsider coming inside altogether before he gets turned away, and then, even _if_ he makes it inside _and_ in a good mood, he’ll be put off by the menu enough to question ever trying to go out with Vegeta again.

It’s a dick move but Vegeta couldn’t think of anything else under so much pressure and he couldn’t just give in to him, whether he wanted to or not.

Wait. Is this a date? Did he just agree to go on a date with Kakarot? What the fuck _is this_?! Panic seized him for a moment, but he shook it off. It doesn’t matter what this is, it’s not going to get them anywhere.

Vegeta parked and, ignoring his constant, and unhelpful, mental monologuing, he called the restaurant and requested a table for two for “Briefs”, saying that it was urgent they got sat soon. As expected, the woman on the phone changed her tone at the name and told him that the table would be ready right away. He smirked.

He headed through the parking garage and down the street a couple of blocks. He passed everyone in line and mentioned his name to the host, who, as promised, seated him quickly. From there he ordered a bottle of champagne and sat cockily at the table, a small smirk still accompanying his fine, sharp features at the thought of the trouble he was sure he’d cause Kakarot for no reason other than because he could. And because he wanted to. Because he’s a dick.

He was briefly reminded of what it was like to be in his twenties again. Back when he first started to have money of his own. Back when he was first figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. When he’d first began climbing the social ladder and realized that there was some excitement out there in life, and that not all of it was poverty and depression.

Once the champagne arrived, stealing him from his musings, he told his server that he wasn’t sure if his company would be able to make it tonight, but that he’d let him know shortly. He looked through his phone to pass the time. It’s been over fifteen minutes. He’d been eyeing the door, but he figured he’d give it ten more minutes and then he’d just go ahead and order without him. He crossed one leg over the other casually and was perusing none-too-seriously through the menu, sipping his glass of champagne when someone came up to his table from behind him.

“Vegeta, hey!” the man said.

Vegeta sat up and looked over his shoulder at the sound of the voice, and he could not withhold the surprise evident on his face. _Gohan._

“I hope you don’t mind my coming up to you like this,” Goku’s eldest smiled down at him, “You’re obviously meeting someone, so I won’t stay long. I spotted you on our way out and I just wanted to say hello and introduce you to my wife, Videl.”

“Vegeta Briefs!” Videl smiled sweetly, “We’ve met before! It _was_ quite a few years ago, though, so I’m not sure if you remember. I was still in grade school then! Videl Satan-Son, Hercule’s daughter.”

Vegeta stood up and nodded respectfully at her, and although he loathed her father, he still remained cordial. “I remember,” he remarked shortly.

“You didn’t tell me that you knew him?” Gohan said, smiling down at his wife, “Vegeta and I work together at Capsule Corp.”

“Oh,” Videl blinked, “I didn’t know _that_.” She eyed Vegeta closely as she explained to her husband, “Vegeta and I don’t really know one another. Only in passing,” she quipped, throwing the remark at Vegeta in a passive aggressive manner, as though to say that she always knew he’d never stick around.

“Where’s your daughter?” Vegeta asked, ignoring her, and trying to move the conversation along. He simply couldn’t believe this was happening right now and he needed to end it as soon as possible. Videl can think that Vegeta’s trying to fuck her husband, that’s fine, but the last thing he needs is for Gohan to see him with his father. That is, if Kakarot even makes it inside. Vegeta’s eyes darted to the entrance.

“She’s with the nanny,” Videl told him, and she patted her husband’s chest as she added, now looking Vegeta in the eyes, “We wanted to have a night to ourselves. It’s good for the marriage to get away _together_ sometimes.”

Vegeta smirked at her antics, but he was thankful for them, nevertheless. It was obvious she wasn’t too happy about seeing _him_ , and that she knew _exactly_ who he is _and_ what had ended his own marriage.

“Gohan!” she exclaimed as she bats her lashes at him, “We should really be going, love.”

“Of course,” Gohan smiled at her, completely oblivious for someone so intelligent. He turned to Vegeta and nodded politely, “Well, I just wanted to say hello. I’ll see you later on!”

Vegeta smirked and nodded at them both respectfully, watching them go even as Videl tossed her hair behind her and clung to her husband unnecessarily. Vegeta was almost certain that Videl was going to bring up his past to Gohan later tonight, and he knew that if she did, it would change their easy-going amicable work-relationship. He didn’t like the fact that Gohan might be uncomfortable around him from here on out because of it, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d made his bed and slept with one too many married men in it.

He sat back down, picked up his menu, and let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. After a few minutes, once he finally got his heart rate to go back down, he picked up his glass of champagne, resumed his previous position of one leg crossed over the other, and took a gratifying sip of his drink when another _all too familiar voice_ startled him.

“Hey, Vegeta!”

When Vegeta looked up, Goku’s smile beamed down on him. He was not only surprised to see him, even though by all means he _knew_ he shouldn’t be, but he was also surprised by the _very sight of him_ and he looked him up and down unabashed before his eyes finally rested on that ridiculously perfect face.

“Kakarot…” he breathed. He had to remember to breath. _‘He’s actually… dressed up…’_ and yes, he looks amazing, but Vegeta found that he looked strange for some reason. He couldn’t say why, the clothes just clearly aren’t his style, and although he looks nice, he doesn’t look like himself.

“This place is huge!” Goku’s smile never failed as he took his seat across from Vegeta and picked up his menu. “Champagne?” he asked curiously, gazing at the bottle before looking directly at Vegeta.

The server came by and filled up Goku’s glass. Vegeta still had yet to say anything, nor had he managed to tear his eyes away from the other man. Goku set his menu down and listened politely as the server went through his spiel of offers for appetizers. Goku picked one, asking for Vegeta’s approval, but Vegeta was still too stunned to speak, so he took that as a yes, and then the server finally went away.

“I’m glad I thought to mention the ‘Briefs’ name as the name for the table otherwise I would have waited in that line for no reason,” Goku laughed, picking up his glass, “Cheers,” he offered.

Vegeta wasn’t too stunned to drink. He allowed Goku’s to clink their glasses together as he was still staring at him, still trying to sort through his thoughts, and took a drink, still trying to quell the rampant beating of his heart.

“Mmm,” Goku said, setting his glass down, “I just saw Gohan, too! Boy did he look surprised to see me,” he laughed, “This is really different from the places I usually go.”

“Did you tell him you were meeting me?” Vegeta asked, finally finding his voice.

Goku smiled, “Nah, he was in a hurry, and Videl seemed ready to get back home. They’re always busy, busy. I couldn’t do what he does for a living…” he commented, going back to picking up his menu.

Vegeta just listened and watched him curiously. Studied him. Really just _took him in_. Observed him. Admired him, even, just a little bit. He’s so unbothered, unaffected, unaware, and _wonderful_.

 _‘Wonderful?_ ’ Vegeta thought, and then he blinked and shook himself of that idea. _‘He’s handsome, anyways, and he is definitely kind and attentive._ _Whenever he’s around,_ ’ he added bitterly.

Vegeta felt his heart tremor in a different way, regardless of his annoyance towards him, and his stupid heart continued to clench inside of his chest even as he picked up his menu to try and distract himself from whatever was going on inside of his head to think such things, but he couldn’t help when he glanced back up at the other man again. And again.

He did so again just as Goku was saying, “I think you picked this place to mess with me! Didn’t you?”

Vegeta smirked.

“I’m lucky I dressed up, too, huh? They probably wouldn’t have let me in if I didn’t, but I had a feeling you’d look nice, you always do, and I figured I ought to try a little for once.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered, that suit looks ridiculous on you,” Vegeta remarked, insulting him while completely disregarding the laxly delivered compliment.

Goku said, “Oh yeah?” he smiled, “Ahh, okay, I get it. You’re surprised that I even made it inside, aren’t you?”

Vegeta quirked a brow and smirked again, refusing to deny having been caught.

Goku grinned, focusing on the menu and moving the conversation right along, “You probably thought I’d turn away at the sight of this place, huh? I told you I don’t usually go out to eat in places where I can’t pronounce anything- Sheesh!” He smiled, his eyes flicking up to Vegeta’s, “Very funny, Vegeta, but I’m here and now you’re just gonna have to explain to me what all of this is.”

“The waiter will explain it to you,” Vegeta assured him, and he found himself smiling back at him in spite of the fact that his plan didn’t work. Smiling _because of the fact that his plan didn’t work._ Then he said, as an afterthought, “Don’t bother me with your questions…”

Goku just chuckled.

The dinner they had was fantastic. Goku was in a good mood and it put Vegeta in a decent mood for once. The man was chatty, but for some reason Vegeta didn’t find it _too_ annoying. He was silly and he was playful, and he was kind, as always, and Vegeta didn’t understand it one bit. He just looked him over, dazed and fascinated the longer the evening wore on.

They talked about absolutely nothing of importance, not about their kiss, not about what they’ve been doing, not about their past or their families, even. Instead, they just talked about little, simple conversational things like the restaurant they were in, the food they’d ordered, the people around them, and the city itself. They talked like they were much more familiar than they were. Well, Goku talked, Vegeta retorted on occasion.

Vegeta was too busy contemplating all the different ways to bring the night to an end for his own sake, because he wasn’t sure what was going on, but he wasn’t feeling like himself. He’d hardly said two words that weren’t in the form of a sarcastic rebuttal to Kakarot’s incessant chirpy blather this whole time, but Goku didn’t seem bothered by the fact. Goku could strike up a conversation about just about anything, and Vegeta wasn’t that type, and while he found the topics somewhat menial, he found Kakarot mesmerizing.

When they were finally finished with their dinner, their liquor, and their dessert, Vegeta insisted that he pay, as a means of finally having one up on the man. Besides, he knew that Goku really didn’t like the food all that much, try as he might to say that he did. Goku conceded and smiled bashfully. Vegeta couldn’t look away from his pinkly tainted cheeks and the way the dim lights danced in his eyes as he smiled at him like that, and he hated himself for it.

When they left, as they were heading out, Vegeta made no qualms and turned quickly towards the parking garage that he’d left his car in. He told him, “I’m going home, Kakarot. You probably should, too. I think that champagne was too much for you.”

Goku was quick, though, and he grabbed him by the arm and insisted that he let him take him to a spot that he said he’d just discovered the other day. With Goku practically dragging him, his hand brushing from his bicep, down to his wrist, and then finally to his hand, Vegeta felt his fingers lace between his own, and he couldn’t refuse.

After walking hurriedly for some time through the busy streets, Goku finally told him, “It’s through here,” nodding to his right, and he led him through a random alleyway.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Vegeta growled as he was being hauled forwards, but he had a suspicion he knew exactly where he was being steered.

“Relax!” Goku called over his shoulder, “Come on! Hurry up!”

Vegeta rolled his eyes but let himself be spurred onward by him. It would have taken more effort to make the other man release him than to just let it be at the moment.

Goku turned left this time and at the end of the street, it opened back up into a public area.

“What is this about, Kakarot?!” Vegeta complained and he scoffed as he noted that Kakarot was probably bringing him to the fountains, just as he’d suspected. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had brought him there to try and romanticize the evening.

“Hold on, we’re almost there!” was all Goku replied.

When they turned the corner, Vegeta realized he was right, and he smirked at himself and shook his head. It was a ridiculous, stupid, and far overplayed, attempt at wooing him.

Once they arrived, Goku turned to him and smiled, “Come closer,” he said, and once they were standing right beside the waters, and Vegeta was practically seething with boredom, Goku let go of his hand and pointed up to the sky. He told him, “Look. You can actually see the stars from right here, even with all the city lights.”

Vegeta turned to him, balking, and asked, completely serious and surprised, “You brought me all the way here to show me… the stars?”

“Yeah!” Goku grinned down at him, nudging him, then he looked back up into the sky, “You don’t get to see them like this when you live in the city… Where I’m from I got to see them all the time, but it’s like no one here cares. Everyone’s always looking down, never paying attention to anything, or they’re staring straight ahead, but it’s like they all have blinders on- like they’re just so busy-” He shrugged, looking at the water for a second, “I mean, the fountain is nice and all, too, and the city’s architecture is awesome, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve never really been into art too much, and I like the natural beauty of the world, better. Like the stars, you can’t recreate something as beautiful as that,” he looked back up, “And I miss them, sometimes…”

Vegeta stared at him in astonishment, truly moved and bewildered, but his mind translated his speech differently, and all he heard was, _‘I miss my wife…’_

Vegeta looked away and withdrew- physically, emotionally, and mentally. This is too personal. Too touching. Too much. It didn’t matter what he thought of how wonderful Kakarot is. It didn’t matter that Kakarot had clearly been hit in the head as a child, obscuring his ability to think straight, since he even _dared_ to consider having feelings for _him._

 _‘He does, doesn’t he?’_ Vegeta thought, but as he gazed up into his face, he wasn’t so sure what the man was thinking at all.

He looked past Kakarot’s beauty for a second and glanced up into the sky as he thought about his words. He tried not to be affected by him. He tried to remember why he was single. Why he _would always be single_.

He hated that he’d allowed it to go this far and he hated that Kakarot has shown him something so sweet. Not that the stars were all that special, but that Kakarot wanted to show them to him, like he can’t see them for himself.

He hated that he might even _actually_ have feelings for him.

He knew that even if he gave in and admitted to the other man that he liked him, he would wind up hurting him in the long run. It’s why he wanted to _remain_ single. It’s why he’d told himself he didn’t want to do this with him.

He could just tell that the man deserves better. Just like Bulma.

“What do you think?” Goku asked him, and Vegeta was suddenly aware that he was being examined. “Betcha didn’t know about this, huh?” He grinned.

“They’re just stars, Kakarot,” Vegeta replied coldly, turning away. _‘Shut it down, now,’_ he thought. “And you are rather strange, if you ask me.”

“Huh?” Goku wondered, but all he said was, “Ahah, you really _are_ from the city, aren’t you?” he teased, and he laughed as a means to ease the tension between them.

Vegeta snorted, “Isn’t it obvious?” He began to walk away, saying, “This has been quite enough. I have work in the morning…”

“Vegeta…” Goku tried, and he reached out and grasped his arm by the bicep once more.

Vegeta turned and glared at him, opening his mouth to protest. He shouldn’t have turned to him at all, though, because Goku bypassed his glare and whatever he was going to say by going straight for a kiss, and Vegeta realized that he might be able to get the upper hand on him sometimes in a fight, but he was powerless against his kiss.

He couldn’t remember if spending time with anyone ever felt so riveting before.

When Goku pulled away he told him, “I have work in the morning, too. I understand,” he nodded, “But, can we see each other again? Like this?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Vegeta smirked in denial. “Goodbye, Kakarot.”

Goku only laughed, “Goodbye, Vegeta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, BabyBuu, for helping me "keep my eye on the birdie" in this one :)
> 
> Happy New Year everyone!


	11. 11

11

The following Wednesday evening, Vegeta went to Capsule Corp., as requested, to work with Gohan on whatever Bulma demanded needed attention at the moment. They were going over some mechanism that she had built that wasn’t working properly. Bulma had been there with them at first, for a little while, but she was clearly preoccupied, and she lost her patience over the prototype and stormed off some time ago.

Vegeta smirked at her retreat, she always reminded him of himself. He turned away from the door and focused his half-hearted attention back to Gohan and the gizmo in his hands.

He fully expected Gohan to act a little nervous around him after their brief encounter at Atera this past Saturday. With Bulma now gone, Vegeta waited for the man to start to squirm, but as the minutes ticked by, everything remained normal. Gohan wasn’t acting even a little bothered. In fact, he stood perfectly at ease beside Vegeta, wholly immersed in what he was doing and nothing more.

Vegeta wondered about him, but he figured that if he’s actually unbothered, then it’s better than having to worry about his work-partner being uncomfortable around him, and he thanked whomever for that little bit of goodness in his life. He tinkered with the item in question in silence for some time in silence, while Gohan focused on the numbers, trying to find any irregularities in their calculations. Vegeta couldn’t focus though, and his thoughts strayed to Kakarot.

He glanced over at Gohan, noting just how similar he looks to his father. That wasn’t helping Vegeta’s wandering thoughts, but his musings were unsettled and scattered, and he couldn’t help it as they took him down darker roads. Vegeta thought of his own father, who he also favors very closely, and he couldn’t help but think, briefly, if he was still out there somewhere.

He tossed that thought, along with the device, aside with annoyance. The thought went away, but when the object hit the table, it broke.

“Shit,” Vegeta muttered.

Gohan looked up. “Uh-oh,” he smiled wearily, “She’s not gonna be happy.”

Vegeta shrugged, “Damn thing didn’t work anyways.”

Gohan laughed, “I’m gonna let _you_ tell her that.”

Vegeta only smirked and readjusted his position, now leaning against the table, bored. Wasn’t he supposed to be here more for _other_ reasons? Not to work on these nearly impossible endeavors. Having hardly been paying attention to the details earlier, Vegeta asked, gesturing the broken object, “What’s the objective of this thing?”

“Short version…” Gohan grinned, “Time travel.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, “She could be working on this for decades before she gets a breakthrough.”

“True,” Gohan sighed at the paperwork and said, “I’m not finding anything here that makes sense as to _why_ it’s not working, though. I mean, the numbers are solid as far as I can tell, which means… Maybe the theory itself needs to be reworked.”

“What about our other project?” Vegeta mused.

“Gravitational manipulation?” Gohan smiled, “We could work on that. It seems a little more feasible.”

Vegeta scoffed, “The forces of nature are set precisely how they’re meant to be. A little less gravity and we’d all freeze… a little more, and we couldn’t even exist. I don’t see the good in it.”

“I don’t think it’s about the ‘good’ in it,” Gohan argued, “Science is neither good nor bad. Like nature. It simply is. So, we know that gravity exists, and if other planets and other ecosystems can thrive in other gravitational forces, why shouldn’t we try to manipulate it. Learn about it. Maybe we could… foster hope in it for altering crops or something…”

Vegeta chuckled, “Create denser food you mean?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, grinning in a way that reminded Vegeta of his father.

Vegeta clicked his tongue, “Denser food means people wouldn’t have to eat as much. If they don’t have to eat as much, that means there’s more food left over. More food left over means less world hunger. Are you trying to solve world hunger, Gohan?”

“One can dream,” he smiled.

Vegeta couldn’t help but see a bit of Kakarot’s wholesome positivity in him, but he wondered, sarcastically, “And what’s the time machine for? So you can stop world wars from happening?”

“Huh,” the young man thought about it for a second, “I’m more of a pacifist than anything. I don’t think I’d really want to get involved in all of that. But! I think it would be interested to prove, _or disprove,_ the multiverse theory. Don’t you? Or, I don’t know, see who actually made the Megaliths. Solve the mystery of time itself…”

Vegeta could only laugh at his doe-eyed wonderment, but he was skeptical at best. He turned to Gohan sharply and asked, “Bulma informed me that you’re not the only one working on this. Where is your partner?”

“Ah,” he smiled gently, “He works on a different part of our project and I only see him once a week or so. Kind of like you.”

Vegeta wondered, “How often do you come here?”

“Three, sometimes four times a week.”

“Hn,” Vegeta grunted, “On top of your job as a Professor? How do you have time for your family?”

Gohan smiled, “I make time for the things I care about.”

Vegeta smirked.

Bulma came back at that precise moment and barked, “Vegeta! Why are you just leaning around?! Gohan, is he being a bad influence on you?”

Vegeta crossed his arms at her antics but remained silent. Gohan laughed nervously as she approached.

Then she saw her machine, “WHAT THE HELL?! Damn it, Vegeta! I know _you_ did this!” She picked up the pieces of her precious invention and tried to assess the damage before glaring at her ex, “Why would you do this?!”

“It was unintentional, woman. Relax. You can always build a new one.”

“ _Build_ a _new_ one?!” Bulma echoed, looking like she was ready to throttle him, “I don’t have **time** to _build a new one_!”

Vegeta scoffed and quipped, “It was a prototype, wasn’t it? You were going to have to build a new model eventually, anyways, and might I suggest using a sturdier material, next time.”

“Wait, that’s it!” Gohan jumped, rushing forward. He grabbed the pieces from Bulma’s hands, “Bulma! I think he’s right! These alloys- they need to be made from a different material- they’re not able to communicate properly, and even if they _were_ , they might not be able to withstand the speed necessary—”

“Necessary to withstand holding up against the threshold, that’s it!” Bulma chimed, “Gohan you’re a genius! And if _I_ say so you know it’s a fact! Thank you!” She patted his face and then turned away, “I have to go! You guys call it day! You’ve done enough! I’ll let you know next time I need you over, Vegeta!”

Vegeta growled at getting no recognition and grumbled to himself something about ungrateful brat heiresses as he headed to grab his coat.

Gohan was smiling, watching him. He called out, “Hey, Vegeta… Thanks.”

Vegeta grunted as he was putting his coat on and replied arrogantly, “Don’t thank me. Science isn’t all that serious, Gohan. It’s nothing but people in lab coats betting other people in lab coats that their ideas won’t work,” and with that he left.

Time was going by fast, but it wasn’t changing much. Vegeta was still annoyed with just about everything. Especially his son.

Trunks just kept bringing girls over in the late hours of the night. Vegeta was beginning to think his son had a problem with simply being _alone_. That was a problem he couldn’t understand, though, and he didn’t try very hard to delve any further into it. He rarely ever had any discussions with his son about his ways, and whenever they did have any sort of father/son chat, it was usually in the form of confrontation, which was getting old.

Trunks was narcissistic, just like him (and his mother for that matter), and it worried Vegeta, but there was little he could do about his son’s decisions, so he tried to simply let him be, as much as he could, while they still lived together. Besides, Vegeta was tired of going over things he felt were self-explanatory and he really didn’t want to fight with his stubborn son, anymore.

He couldn’t wait for him to go off on the Spring Break vacation he’s been talking about for the past few weeks, all-expenses paid for by Bulma Briefs. Vegeta hated that Bulma enabled their son, but he really didn’t blame her. He knew he’d do the same thing if he could.

No matter what Vegeta did to counter the turbulence in his home, at the end of the day, he was still stressed. It’s not that he’s constantly wound tight, it’s just that he’s never really let himself become completely unraveled.

The thought crossed his mind to text Kakarot for a spar, and he knew the man would likely jump at the chance, but Vegeta refused to open up that line of communication out of spite. Kakarot hasn’t called since their **date** , or whatever that was, and while Vegeta was annoyed by that fact. He chalked it up to being for the best, though.

Instead, he tried his best to work it out at the gym, but at the end of every day, it just wasn’t enough. When he went home, or out, he drank. He knew he didn’t _need_ to drink but he did, just to take the edge off. It only helped so much, and most nights he only ever drank one beer anyways. Such a waste of money.

He threw himself at work, but he knew that he shouldn’t be trying so hard. He wondered why he was devoting so much time to it anyways, when he knew that ultimately, he was going to quit. Was it because he now works at home, and it’s difficult to walk away from something when he knew he could be working on it whenever he got bored? Or was he trying to make up for the misfortune that his very existence causes his ex-wife?

Instead of staying at home and overthinking about all of those things, he decided to go back to the fight club. This time, he wasn’t going in drunk.

He won the fight easily enough, and then he walked off the platform and headed to the changing rooms to clean up before collecting his money. He had a small gash on his eyebrow, but that was the worst of the damage, and so he showered and changed quickly, feeling minutely better, and ready to head out, or home, whichever felt right.

Spring Break finally came and Vegeta enjoyed the time with Trunks out of his home and out of his hair, but he didn’t spend the week completely alone. Bulma had him over for another work meeting one day, on another he took Bra out again, and on another, he’d been fortunate at the bar and found someone decent enough to hook up with for the evening.

The meeting with Bulma had been tedious and mostly uneventful. She was in a strangely good mood, but Vegeta didn’t question it. The day out with Bra had been a nice distraction, but Vegeta found himself inwardly gushing over just how precious she is to him, and he found it unhelpful. The evening he’d spent with the man he used for a one-night stand had just been okay. He certainly wasn’t Kakarot, not by a long shot. Still, Vegeta wondered why he even bothered comparing that man with anyone else.

Time kept on ticking, and when Trunks returned Sunday night, all in a rush to get his school bag together again for his next day back at school, Vegeta didn’t even bother to ask him how his trip had gone. The boy looked ragged and run down, but he was a little more tanned and grinning like an idiot.

“Goten’s gonna spend the night, is that cool?”

Vegeta shrugged. What should he care?

The following week rolled by, because time doesn’t care about anyone, and when Friday came around again, Vegeta was extremely tense all over. He thought about taking Bra out again, but he was in no mood for her innocence. He thought about calling Kakarot, but he refused to give in to the temptation and besides, he’d already worked out earlier that day. He thought about just staying home and working late, but he couldn’t stand the idea of being locked up, looking at the computer for another second.

He finally decided that he was going to go out to eat and then go out to a bar. Dinner was fine, uneventful, but no one at the bar was interesting to him, and he wasn’t in the mood for attempting idle chatter, so he cut his night short, and headed back home.

What he walked into in his own home thirty minutes later, however, amped up his already horrible mood.

“Trunks!” he cried, shocked, and _confused_.

The boy was making out with someone again, but not just _any_ someone: Goten. Two girls were also there _,_ watching them, and Vegeta was certain their ultimate involvement wasn’t going to be to just sit there the whole time. Vegeta didn’t know who the two girls were, and he didn’t care. What he’d witnessed, and what he assumed was about to go down, was beyond call for a little more than his typical scolding session.

“Out,” he growled at the girls. They got up to gather their things hurriedly, but when Goten clumsily tried to move to leave as well, Vegeta pointed at him and said, “Not you. You stay.”

The boys separated themselves on the couch, their faces red with embarrassment. They looked at each other, the ground, anywhere but up at Vegeta.

Once the girls were gone, slamming the front door on their way out, Vegeta glared at the boys and snapped, “What in the **_actual_** **_fuck_**!?” 

“Come on, Dad!” Trunks said playfully, “Like you’ve never—”

“Me?! This isn’t about me! Or what you _think_ I do or _have_ done!” he barked, “What do you think _you’re_ doing?!”

Goten’s blush ran like a rash down his bare chest as he continued to avoid eye contact. Vegeta wasn’t even bothering with him, yet. Trunks, on the other hand, was feeling much more boldly and a lot less uncomfortable.

“What do you care, anyways?!” his son argued, standing up, “I mean, I’m sorry you walked in on that, but I thought you were gone for the night and—”

“How many times do we have to go over this?! And since when is _this_ a thing?!” He gestured between the two of them.

“I’m not- _We’re not-_ ” Trunks fumbled, blushing and flustered, “It was just part of the plan—”

Vegeta bellowed, “I know what the fuck your plans were, Trunks!”

His son balked for a moment and then offered weakly, “They were totally down!”

Vegeta growled, “ **You** are in _so much fucking trouble_!”

“Look, I’m _sorry_ —”

“ **Sorry**?!” Vegeta yelled, “You’re fucking sorry you got caught is all! I’m through doing this with you, Trunks! I’m kicking you out!”

“You’re kicking me out?!”

“You’re going to live with your mother! I’m not dealing with this anymore!”

“I’m almost eighteen! What’s the point?!”

“The _last_ thing _I_ need is to get a call from _those_ girls’ parents! Do you have _any idea_ —?!”

“They’re not gonna tell anyone—”

“You don’t know that!”

“You’re freaking out!”

“You have **no** **idea**! I’m calling your mother!”

“NO!” Trunks shouted.

“And I’m calling _Kakarot_ for that matter!” Vegeta glared at Goten.

Goten flinched. Trunks argued, “Don’t call them!”

“And I’m telling them _everything!_ ” Vegeta roared.

“Come on, Dad- It’s not that big of a deal!”

“It’s too late!” Vegeta’s hand flew up to silence him, “You’re not talking yourself out of this!”

“ _It’s just sex_!”

Vegeta scoffed, “You do nothing but disrespect my rule and my authority in this house! I _only have one fucking rule!_ And you have _no_ regard for the consequences of your actions!”

Trunks countered, “What about you?! You go out _all the time_! You come back all bruised up half the time! Sometimes you don’t even come back until the next day! What are you so mad about, anyways?!” he choked, trying to talk in circles, “You can’t be _that mad_ about Goten and I kissing! You know it’s not like that, anyways, and besides, _you_ _love dick—_ ”

“I’m a grown man and what I do is none of your business!” Vegeta snapped. “You know damn well this isn’t about that!”

Fumbling, Trunks muttered, “Wha- I- Ah-” Recovering, he added, “You know you’re totally overreacting right now!”

Vegeta snapped, “ **Like hell I am!** ”

Trunks scoffed, backing away. He began gathering his things and muttered, “When I do get my own damn place, I’m _never coming to see you again_!”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and grit his teeth, but he began walking away before he said something he shouldn’t.

“Come on, Goten,” he heard his son saying, “Let’s get out of here.”

Vegeta spun back around and growled, “I _dare_ you to try and leave right now! You’re staying! Both of you! That’s final!”

“Make me!” his son challenged, squaring up with him.

“Trunks, no!” Goten finally spoke. He ran in between Trunks and Vegeta and said, speaking to Vegeta, “This was, um, my idea! Uh- Sir! I’m sorry!”

“As though I’d believe you or that even matters,” Vegeta glared at him, “Nice try, boy. Sit back down.”

Goten recoiled, gulped, and took a few steps back.

Trunks was still heated, though, and he yelled, having regained some confidence, “You won’t call Mom because then _you’d_ have to explain how you let this happen! Because _you’re_ never _here_! And you _know_ it! And you _know_ she doesn’t need to know about this!”

Goten turned to Trunks and tried to pacify him into backing down. Trunks was still bristling, though.

Vegeta snarled, baring his teeth as he contemplated what to do. Fucking teenagers. Fucking rich, gutsy, horny teenage _boys_ at that. And **stupid** teenage girls. Fucking fatherhood! Finally, a tad bit calmer, Vegeta said, “I’m calling your mother,” and he glared at Goten, “And your father. You two stay right here.”

He stomped down the hallway and disappeared into his bedroom to try to figure out a game plan, but his brain was absolutely fried. He couldn’t believe he’d just walked in on what _would_ have been a foursome, and to see his son kissing Goten to top it all off. He shook his head and tried his best to think of how to handle the situation.

He didn’t intend on calling Bulma. That had been a complete farce. He also knew that calling Kakarot wasn’t going to fix anything, but he didn’t know what else to do and he had to do something. He was desperate to regain some type of control in his own home.

He thought about his options as quickly and efficiently as his frayed mind would allow before he pulled out his phone and went through his contacts. After a slight hesitation, he flicked over Kakarot’s name and let the phone go to work.

The least the man can do is come pick up his son because _Trunks_ isn’t taking him home and _he_ certainly didn’t plan on driving him. _That_ would be an awkward drive.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was actually calling Kakarot about this, but the man _did say_ —

“Hello?” Goku answered.

“Kakarot…” Vegeta choked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable on so many levels, personal and otherwise.

“Hey, Vegeta!” Goku chirped. He sounded cheery, as usual.

Vegeta could just _hear_ the man’s smile in his voice. He could see it on his face in his mind’s eye, even. He wavered, and then told him, “I need you to… come over…” keeping it as vague as he could.

He replied, “Is everything okay? You sound upset?”

Exasperated, Vegeta groaned, “Just come over, damn you. And be quick about it.”

“Alright,” Goku chuckled, “Um… I can be there shortly.”

Vegeta hung up the phone and sat in his room on the edge of his bed for a hot minute as he contemplated how he wanted this to pan out. Should he make them confess to Kakarot what they’d done? At least after Kakarot takes Goten home then he can yell at Trunks some more in private. Not that he thought it would do any good.

He was slightly shaking he was so pissed. It’s not what happened that pissed him off. It’s that he had to deal with it. Trunks was right about some of what he’d said. He _is_ almost eighteen, and Vegeta _really_ didn’t want to tell Bulma. What good would telling her what he’d just witnessed do? It would only taint their son’s otherwise perfect image in her eyes and it certainly wouldn’t help his case as a father when considering that this _isn’t_ the first time something like this has happened. Besides, once Trunks turns eighteen, he’s allowed to technically do what he wants.

Vegeta groaned at the very idea. That is _not_ a good thing.

Calling Kakarot was the only thing that made sense. At least then he won’t have to deal with this alone.

Vegeta sighed in exasperation. He didn’t know what else to do at this point, especially since someone else’s child is involved- someone aside from a random girl he’ll never see again.

He couldn’t think straight. One minute he was trying to be a great father, or at least, a more _present_ father, to one of his kids, the next minute he was walking in on his other child about to have a fucking—Ugh, he wished he’d just _stayed_ out. Like he _usually_ does. Then he’d be none the wiser.

It’s drunk Vegeta’s turn to deal with things tonight.

After removing his coat and calming his nerves for another ten minutes or so, he finally came back out of his bedroom, only to find that neither Trunks nor Goten was in the living room. He banged on Trunks’ door, demanding that he open it. No answer. He shoved the door open with the weight of his shoulder. They were gone.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Vegeta yelled to no one as he slammed the door shut, knocking something off the wall. Whatever it was broke. He didn’t care.

A knock came to his front door.

He ran to it and opened it, scowling.

“Hey, Vegeta! I got here as fast as I could,” Goku smiled, unaware, and then commented with a blink and a rise of his brows, “Whoa, you look pissed.”

“I’m fucking furious!” Vegeta growled, just short of losing his cool entirely.

“Okay! Calm down!” Goku offered, holding his hands up, “Uhh, can I come in, or…?”

“Yes, yes, come in!” Vegeta growled, turning away from him. Vegeta was watching the man out of the corner of his eye, though, unable to help himself, and he felt his whole body start to burn up as soon as Goku stepped through the threshold of his apartment.

Once Goku was inside and standing in the living room, Vegeta turned to face him again. He huffed, but Goku just stood there, looking amused.

“What’s up?” the man asked, grinning.

Vegeta glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest, and declared, “I called you over here to come get your son.”

Goku glanced around and said, “Uh, okay? Where is he?”

“He’s not here!” Vegeta yelled, tensing, and bristling all over.

“Okay!” Goku chuckled a little bit, putting both of his hands in his jean’s pockets, “Well, I guess he went out with Trunks, yeah?”

“Damn it, Kakarot! I told them to stay here!” Vegeta growled, “Don’t you get it?!”

“Not really. You haven’t explained anything to me…”

“Gahh!!” Vegeta cried, throwing one of his hands into his hair and running his fingers through it. He turned and went into the kitchen to grab a beer.

“What happened, Vegeta?” Goku asked, still completely at ease. He followed him partway but stopped at the dining room table and peered into the kitchen as he watched Vegeta opening the refrigerator door.

“I don’t even want to talk about it!” Vegeta yelled, pulling a drink out of the fridge.

Goku only smiled, and called out, “Hey can I have one of those?”

“Yes, you idiot, I was getting you one!”

Goku didn’t respond with anything other than a widespread grin and soft, amused eyes. Once Vegeta handed him his beer, they both cracked them open and took a drink at the same time. Then Vegeta sat down at the dining room table and groaned to himself.

“Thanks,” Goku smiled again, joining Vegeta and placing both of his elbows on the table as he looked him over curiously.

Vegeta looked up at him in consideration. Now that he’s here and Trunks and Goten _aren’t,_ he really didn’t want to tell him what he’d walked in on. He’s not great with this type of thing. Actually, he’s never done this type of thing. He’s never gotten another child’s parent involved in his own child’s home life. He’s never asked another parent for their perspective on things, either. And he’s never tattled on another kid. Or his own for that matter.

Hell, he didn’t even know what type of parent Kakarot _is_ and while it’s not his business, he certainly didn’t want to bring up his son’s promiscuous, although normal, albeit illegal, adolescent behavior.

Goku was still smiling at him, looking like he wanted to say something, something he found very funny apparently, but he was holding it in, whatever it is.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Vegeta asked snidely.

Goku chuckled, “Ahh, I was just wondering…” he bit his lip.

Vegeta remembered in that moment, watching Kakarot biting his own bottom lip, that he’d sworn off ever seeing this perfect hunk of a man again, and he wondered how the hell he even committed to such a thing. The last time he was here had been… and the last time he saw him he was… and he’s just so charming… 

Why the hell is Vegeta so stubborn?

He growled, ignoring his thoughts, “What, Kakarot, _what_?”

“Well,” Goku grinned, and he took another drink and shrugged as he asked, “Where’s the fire, Vegeta?”

“ _What_?!” Vegeta replied, not following.

Goku said, teasing him, “You sure acted like I’d better get here in a hurry, but I don’t see anything going on…”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at him, “What are you getting at?!”

“And now that I’m here, you don’t want to talk about what happened…”

“Your point?!”

“Did you make this whole thing up just so you could get me over here?”

Vegeta’s jaw dropped and he stammered, “What?! I- Ah! N-No!”

Goku laughed, “I mean, it’s cool if that was your plan and all. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you…” He leaned in, still smiling, a mischievous twinkle came to his eye as he said, “I missed you.”

“Will you— Stop! I—”

“Hey, it’s okay!” he said, picking up his beer again to take a sip as Vegeta was still stammering, and he smiled at him, “I mean, I’m glad you called me! I was beginning to think that you’d never call! I can’t believe I didn’t think of pulling something like this, honestly, but I’d probably have to come up with a pretty good excuse to get you to come back over to my place,” he chuckled again, “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble, though. You could have just said you wanted to see me again…”

“Damn it, Kakarot! That is _not_ what’s going on here!” Vegeta finally found his voice. He reasoned, “If I wanted to get you over here, I would _not_ have to _make up some ridiculous story_ in order to do so! And I _didn’t_ , okay?! They were _just here!_ And they are in _trouble_!”

Goku grinned, “Well, they’re not here anymore, right…? And… Here _I_ am…?” His eyes flashed with something of a more devious look than Vegeta had ever seen before.

Vegeta looked back with equal amounts of utter contempt and undeniable fervency. His mind raced at the implication of Kakarot’s words.

For a full two seconds.

He damned good sense to hell and lunged at him, knocking over his beer as he caught his mouth with his own. Grabbing a hold of the trim of his jacket, he pulled himself closer, practically crawling into his lap.

Goku dropped his own beer onto the table with no regard for the consequential mess it made just before he reached out, using both of his hands to slide around Vegeta’s waist to his back, gripping his body unexpectedly, wonderfully tight and pulling him close, making the practicality of Vegeta in his lap a very physical reality with just his strength alone.

Vegeta realized only then that he just _royally_ fucked up by giving into him, but he moaned into the man’s mouth as Goku suddenly stood up, hoisting him into the air as they kissed. Vegeta knew, as he wrapped his legs around him, that there’s no turning back from this. As sure as Kakarot’s strong hands were grabbing onto his ass and kneading his thighs, he knew that the man isn’t going to let him go so easily after this. He has a hold on him now. And _fuck it feels incredible._

“Which room’s yours?” Goku panted, grazing his teeth along Vegeta’s neck.

“Third… door… right…” Vegeta told him urgently.

He couldn’t remember every detail of how they’d gone from the dining room to his bedroom, but they were there now, on his bed, rocking into one another’s hard bodies, removing shirts, and panting heavy into each other’s mouths. Vegeta felt down Kakarot’s pecs, gently grazing his nipples as one of Goku’s hands palmed the back of his head and the other gripped his thigh.

They were moving too slow, though, they wanted this _now._ Kakarot pulled back, and Vegeta undid the button on his jeans before he helped Kakarot undo his pants. It was like peeling back the paper on a gift when you already know what’s inside. It’s the one gift you’d specifically asked for. The excitement of revealing it eclipsed only by the realization that now it’s _yours._

Kakarot was teasing him, though, as he worked for his prize, and Vegeta moaned when, just as he got Kakarot’s pants undone and unzipped, the man attacked his mouth with another searing kiss, refocusing Vegeta’s attention, and he dipped his hips down and drug forward in between his legs, stabbing him with his hardened cock and taunting him with a deliciously cruel chuckle.

Vegeta smirked into his mouth and felt his body tremor under the man’s weight as Kakarot slowly allowed his body to cover him more fully, using his height to his advantage as he crushed Vegeta beneath him, drawing his legs upwards.

Vegeta took the hint and wrapped his legs around Kakarot’s waist tightly as he tossed his inhibitions to the wayside along with what was left of his cognitive dissonance. Their tongues glided together recklessly. A fist full of Kakarot’s hair felt like tangible bliss, Kakarot’s hands trailing up his sides, palm against his ribs, on his chest, squeezing, then travelling lower, fingers grazing down his abs… It was absolutely sinful.

Suddenly it was all happening so fast and Vegeta didn’t want it to end. He pressed his upper body into Kakarot’s, and Kakarot used his weight to press Vegeta down into the sheets, grinding against him with his hips once more. Vegeta let out a brisk moan. Goku swallowed it.

Then they heard something. Banging on the front door.

“Shit!” Vegeta murmured through panted breaths.

Goku agreed, mumbling, “They must be back.”

Vegeta suddenly looked up into Goku’s eyes and felt wide awake. More awake than he has in years. _Awake and alive_. He silently wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that they were getting interrupted right now. His arm is still wrapped around his neck, hand in his hair. His legs still held him close, both men breathing erratically. Goku was looking down at him, too, with wetted, swollen, well-kissed lips and a look in his eyes that was now imprinted into Vegeta’s mind.

More knocking rattled the front door, and Vegeta snapped out of his stupor just as Kakarot began to pull away. They both went to work putting their shirts on quickly, buttoning up their pants and adjusting their hardened cocks upright in their jeans to the best of their abilities.

There was still relentless pounding coming from the front door. It sounded like the cops. Vegeta would know.

… and Trunks has a key…

The two men exited the bedroom quickly, with Goku standing a little way off, waiting, watching from just within the hallway as Vegeta finally got to the front door and opened it.

Fucking Police. Three of them. With Trunks. Great.

“Ahh, _Vegeta Briefs_ ,” One of the police officers stated, recognizing Vegeta immediately, “I believe we have something that belongs to you.”

Trunks came forward at the cop’s urging, head held down, not meeting his father’s gaze.

One of the other officers was saying, “We have with us here a _Trunks Briefs_ ,” he was looking at his ID before he looked back up at Vegeta, handing the ID to him, “He’s your son, right? Bulma Briefs is his mother?”

“Yes,” Vegeta answered concisely, glaring at his son, who was wise enough not to dare look him in the eye.

The cop continued, “Well, we pulled him and his friend over going 90 in a 65. Joyriding through the city. Very dangerous to do. I’m sure you know that.” The officer handed him a yellow slip and pen, “Luckily for him he’s still a minor and we were able to take him home to you because he had his license on him. We usually don’t do this.”

The second cop added, “He was a little mouthy to us, _Mr. Briefs_ , and that mouth could get him into trouble, you might want to talk to him about that. But he passed a sobriety test, and he’s had no prior encounters with the law, so we’re just giving him this ticket. You’ll have to go to court with him to schedule for him to take a driver’s safety class and pay this fine. Sign here.”

Vegeta picked the slip from the man’s hand and did so but said nothing.

Another officer said, “Did you know your son was out tonight, Vegeta?”

“Against my will,” Vegeta answered shortly.

“Ah, so you know about his friend, then, too, right? We have to take him down to the station until he can get picked up by his parents. He has no ID on him…”

“Wait! Officer!” Goku called from behind Vegeta, coming up to join the conversation, “His name is Goten. He’s my son.”

Trunks perked up at Goku’s voice, but he looked back down when he accidentally caught Vegeta’s harsh gaze.

The officer eyed Goku queerly.

Goku told him, “Vegeta called me over to have Goten picked up, but the two of them decided it would be a better idea to leave before I got here,” he laughed and shrugged, “Kids.”

“It’s a good thing we pulled them over, then, isn’t it?” the officer asked, still looking at him oddly. He called into his walkie-talkie, “Bring the other one up here. His father’s here.”

“Thanks a lot, Sir,” Goku nodded.

“Wait,” the third man interrupted, “You’re Goku Son, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Goku smiled.

“I- It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir!” The policeman took off his hat and bowed a bit.

“You’re Goku Son?! That’s where I recognized you from!” The officer who had been giving him a strange look blinked and then offered his hand for him to shake, “I’ve heard all about you!”

Vegeta tried his best _not_ to react to that and simply stood out of the way.

One of the police was saying, “I’m a big fan of yours!”

“The way you crushed it at that World Martial Arts Tournament, I’ve never seen anything like it since!” said the other.

The third chimed in, “I didn’t know we were going to meet so many famous people tonight!”

The officer that recognized Vegeta wondered, “Vegeta, does he mentor you?”

Vegeta tried his best _not_ to glare at the officer for even bringing up such a thing.

“What are you talking about?” One of the three officers questioned his partner.

Vegeta did glare then.

“Oh, uh, never mind,” the officer recoiled at his blunder.

Goku told the men, “Ah, Vegeta and I just spar together sometimes.”

Vegeta held his breath at Kakarot’s response and the stupid cop almost telling on himself. If any of them had bothered to look beforehand then they’d see, and they probably _know_ , that he’s obviously been arrested a few times himself for _other things,_ but damn it, why did his reputation for fights have to precede him, and why is _Kakarot’s_ so well known, _on the opposite spectrum even_? He glanced over at Goku for a second, unable to help himself, but then he turned and glared at Trunks in disdain.

Goten was coming up the stairs now, looking just as ashamed as Trunks, but gratefully it was the perfect interruption to an otherwise ridiculous situation.

“Hey, Goten,” Goku nodded at his son, and he turned to the policemen and said, “Thanks for bringing our sons back safe. I’m sure they won’t be any trouble in the future.” He put a hand on Goten’s shoulder and squeezed it. Goten stared at the ground.

“Oh! Not a problem!” The officers’ moods had all changed, and they were distracted as they received another distress call. They told them, “Boys! Listen to your fathers! We have to go. Don’t forget your court date, young man… You all have a safe night…”

The police left and Goten and Trunks came inside, with Goku urging them both to have a seat on the couch.

Vegeta was still stunned, by everything, and he stood beside Goku, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and eyes glaring, as Goku asked the two boys to tell him what was going on.

Neither of them answered.

Goku turned to Vegeta and sighed, “I guess I’ll just take Goten home, then.”

Vegeta only nodded, refusing eye contact with him, but he still felt heated under his gaze.

“Goten, come on,” Goku said, turning back to his son. Goten stood to his feet and came forward, still looking downtrodden. Goku told him, “I’ll meet you at the car in a minute.”

“Trunks, go to your room…” Vegeta commanded. For once, Trunks obeyed.

Alone again for a moment, Goku wasted no time, and gave no qualms about initiating, or at least, briefly reconciling, what they’d started before they were interrupted. He lifted Vegeta’s chin in his hand and kissed him square on the lips.

Vegeta thought his kiss was refreshing, rejuvenating, invigorating, even, and he leaned into it. _‘Fuck, what am I doing?’_

Then Goku pulled away, smiling, and said, teasingly, “Call me… if things get out of hand again, yeah? Or I can call you… just because…”

Wholly unable to help himself, Vegeta smirked at his cocky attitude, but he whispered in contradiction to what he was feeling, “Get the fuck out of my house, Kakarot.”

Goku chuckled, looked him over one good time, and then he left.

Vegeta stared at the door after Kakarot had gone through it. He knew he needed to gather his thoughts for a few minutes before he spoke to Trunks, but he also knew that he couldn’t wait too long. He shook himself free (mostly) of his thoughts of Goku and knocked on Trunks’ door a minute later.

“It’s not locked…” he heard his son say begrudgingly.

Vegeta opened the door and stood in there, looking down at Trunks, who was laying on his bed despondently, and suddenly he wondered what in the world he was going to say to his stubborn son.

Trunks looked a little deflated for once. Embarrassed and angry, but not necessarily at Vegeta this time. He glanced up at his father and said, “Well, aren’t you going to yell at me some more?”

Vegeta only stood there in silence. He didn’t know what had come over him. He didn’t really _feel_ like yelling at his son. He really wasn’t even that mad anymore. Trunks has been punished already, hasn’t he? He _knows_ what he did wrong, right? Kind of. Maybe.

 _‘Maybe,’_ Vegeta thought, _‘Maybe this was the best thing that could have happened. Maybe a run in with consequences for his actions did more than yelling at him about preparing for the consequences could ever do.’_

Painful memories of similar situations going _much differently for him_ at Trunks’ age came to mind, but unexpected and more recent memories of Kakarot eclipsed them all.

Vegeta realized he’d never responded, and he was still lost in thought over Kakarot and the cops, over his past and his present, and everything else of small detail that seemed scattered and strewn across his psyche when he heard Trunks speaking to him again.

“You didn’t tell Goku… Did you?”

“No,” Vegeta admitted, his attention going back to his son.

“… Why not?” Trunks wondered.

For a moment, Vegeta saw the same little boy he remembered holding in his arms as a child, looking up at him with wonderment and innocence, ignorance, and honesty.

Vegeta told him, narrowing his eyes at his son as he tried to explain, to the best of his abilities, what he’d never intended on sharing, “You always say you wonder about my past and how I became the man I am. Why I’m such an asshole. Why I get to do whatever I want, and it seems so fucking ‘cool’ to you… I can see now that my absence, and my presence in your life has had an effect on you that I didn’t intend. But I’ll never tell you about my past Trunks- it’s not a great story and I don’t think it’s _cool_ \- and I need you to understand that I don’t stick around for you and Bra like I ‘should’ because I don’t want you to turn out like me: a careless, heartless, self-absorbed asshole that doesn’t know _how_ to lead a normal life…

“But in lieu of not being very helpful as a fatherly figure to you, I’ll admit that I didn’t tell Kakarot what you did because I wanted to see what _you_ would do. Honestly, I expected you to own up to it for yourself. Like you did with me. You keep talking about how you’re becoming a man. About how you’re not a child anymore. I was giving you the chance to be one, to own up to your decisions and face the consequences of your actions. Well, I have to say, I didn’t see a man standing there today when I looked at you.

“And you’re not a man, are you? Even the _state_ still considers you a child. And you still act like a child. You might stand up to me, and it makes you feel tough, but you know I would never hit you because you _are_ my child, and clearly, the way I discipline doesn’t work with you, so something’s got to change, but maybe it’s too late and my part is done. You know deep down that it gets more complicated outside of these walls, don’t you? But you still don’t know how the world works.

“I think that you really are ashamed of what you did. Maybe not about the sex, and maybe you’re not embarrassed in front of _me_ because,” he snorted, “Obviously you think I’m some deviant asshole who has no morals. And you may be right. I’m not a nice guy, or a _good_ guy, but that doesn’t mean that you really want to be like me… And I think you know that.

“And if you really want to know what I think… I think you kept your mouth shut because you didn’t want to get Goten in trouble. Not because you really care about him, but because you were scared of Kakarot. Scared of the _unknown_ in him. Scared of _his_ reputation which you’re undoubtedly familiar with. And now, I believe, for the first time in your life, you’re considering your own reputation, aren’t you? And _mine_. You’re probably wondering how, exactly, those cops _knew_ _me_. I think you might have even been scared for your future, just for a moment, to some degree. And you should certainly be afraid of your mother’s wrath, but lucky you, I didn’t call her, either.”

Trunks visibly flinched at that, but for once he remained silent.

Vegeta eyed him, saying, “You’ve had a lot of realizations tonight, haven’t you? Well let me add one more. Don’t you dare try to see yourself as the victim here. Or worse, the mastermind. Or even the ‘badass tough guy.’ This is just small time, petty problems, isn’t it? Yes, this is nothing and you know it, and you got off easy. You’re thinking about pushing your luck, aren’t you? You want a taste of the real thing, Trunks? I don’t think you do. But if you keep on acting like you’re untouchable, you’re going to get yourself in some _real_ trouble. You and your friends. And your girl friends for that matter, too. You’re already getting Goten into trouble.

“You’re a bad influence on him, Trunks, and I know that you’re doing it intentionally. You’re trying to see how well you can manipulate people. Trying to see how much you can control them. I know you are. I can see right through you. And I know you think that just because you have the money and the power and the looks, that no one can touch you, and no one can hurt you, but money, and power, and sex is not everything. It can’t buy you freedom. It can’t buy you wisdom. It can’t buy you good health. And it can’t buy you happiness. Believe me. I know.

“It’s not about the sex. It’s not about the _gender_ choice of the sex. It’s not about the ticket. It’s not even about the fact that you constantly run off and disobey me. It’s about you. Your self-discipline. It’s about your own self-respect. It’s about your future… Not mine… I think it’s time you gave some real thought to that. Not that I expect you to actually bother. It’s not like you have anything to worry about. You’re set for life, aren’t you? But how long are you going to live? And how good of a life are you going to have by the end of it?

“Do you really want to continue being selfish and stubborn and small-minded? At some point, it will all catch up to you, and all of your relationships will end in ruin. Including the one with yourself. And then you’ll wind up just like me. You don’t want that.”

‘ _Listen to me, damn it._ **_I_** _don’t want that for you…’_

Trunks didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even look at him.

Vegeta’s lip twitched before he added, “I’m not kicking you out, but if you decide you want to live with your mother, that’s fine. You can go anytime you wish. I don’t care…”

_‘And I don’t blame you.’_

At that Vegeta left Trunks alone and headed to the kitchen to grab another beer. When he rounded the corner from the hallway to the dining room he nearly jumped when he noticed the mess that he and Kakarot had made of their unfinished attempt at having a drink together earlier. He’d forgotten all about it. _But not about **why** it had happened. _He cleaned it up as quickly as he could and then grabbed a fresh beer for himself before heading back to his own bedroom.

Once inside with the door closed behind him, he cracked open his beer, took a sip, and then he laid on his bed and stared up at the ceiling as he went over the events of his day. He couldn’t believe he’d just said all of that to his son. He couldn’t believe that Trunks didn’t say anything back. He couldn’t believe Kakarot had just been in this very room, hot and heavy all over him, not even an hour ago. He couldn’t believe how tired he was. He couldn’t believe that Bulma works all day every day and somehow doesn’t collapse into bed every night the same way he feels now. He couldn’t believe that the cops had been at his house for something other than his arrest. He just couldn’t believe any of it.

Unlike most nights, and for some unknown reason, he fell right to sleep, wasting yet another perfectly good drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Baby_Buu for helping me keep the drama under control :)


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, you might wanna grab a snack, maybe some popcorn, cause it's a bit of a show :)

12

Three weeks later, it was the beginning of April. Spring has finally come, and Prom was all Vegeta was hearing about anytime Trunks was around. His son was set to graduate in less than two months and attend the college of his choice this fall. His minor incident with the police was all settled, and the only thing the boy cared about was partying. It was pathetic, but Vegeta supposed he’d rather his child have concerns about superficial types of things over real issues like food and shelter and bills.

He and Trunks never talked about what happened the other night, but Trunks seemed to be attempting to behave, and at least he was in a good mood.

What Kakarot had said to Goten, and what Goten told Kakarot, Vegeta would never know, but the next time the young man came by he was shyer than ever, and he tiptoed around Vegeta with nothing but the utmost respect. At least _one of their sons_ has a little dignity and gave him some reverence. Even Kakarot was respectful enough to text Vegeta to make sure it was ok that Goten still comes over. Vegeta simply replied that he didn’t care.

He heaved a great sigh, trying to push the man out of his head, as Trunks and Goten were, yet again, at the kitchen table planning out their every last move for the _Big Night_ coming up in the next couple of weeks.

 _‘That boy has no damn shame,’_ Vegeta thought, _‘He’s definitely my child.’_ He snorted, as though he ever doubted it. He had been trying to ignore them with little success and so he turned the volume on his headphones all the way up in order to try a little harder.

Bulma had called Vegeta earlier that day to tell him that she decided to rent a place for Trunks and his friends to stay the night on Prom night, and probably the rest of the weekend, which Vegeta more than agreed with because he didn’t plan on dealing with Trunks’ obnoxious behavior _at all_ that weekend. He thought about telling her to prepare to start calling herself a grandma, but he restrained himself, although he snickered at the thought of her reaction.

Bulma had also mentioned that she wanted him over later on this week for another work meeting with Gohan, or _Wonder Boy_ , as she likes to call him. Vegeta agreed to the meeting with less resistance than usual, which he found to be strange behavior for himself. Easy compliancy just isn’t like him.

Is he in a good mood or something?

He was feeling somewhat perturbed. Things in his life, from the outside looking in, just seemed too good to be true, but it never took him long to start feeling like something is out of place. Or to ruin a good thing.

He’s been staying true to his word of seeing Bra more often, and he’s been working overtime from home on Capsule Corp. issues because most of her employees, in his opinion, were incompetent. He could always find the time to work out, too, which was both a mental and physical necessity. However, on top of how busy, _actually busy_ , his schedule has been, he still can’t seem to get his now habitual obsession over Kakarot out of his mind, and it was driving him absolutely _bananas._

They hadn’t seen or talked to one another, except for that one text, since Kakarot had invited himself into Vegeta’s bed, and that fact was actually upsetting Vegeta. He _hated_ to admit it, but it was the truth.

He thought about him all the time and even seriously considered contacting Kakarot of his own accord, but he didn’t know what to say to him. He wanted to make plans to spar, or maybe take him up on his offer of going out together sometime. He honestly wished that the man would text him, or call him, or maybe even just come over unannounced again, just so that they could either get this out of their system or see where the hell it would take them. He even wanted to make the next move, and he was very tempted to just give in, but every time he saw Trunks and Goten together, he reconsidered. Besides, he didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding pathetic, at least, in his own mind.

It wasn’t only that. Kakarot has been strangely silent this whole time and it set Vegeta’s nerve ablaze. Kakarot _says_ he wants to see him, but then he doesn’t call or text him at all.

The man’s silence _is_ odd, isn’t it? Or is Vegeta just reading too much into the situation?

Whatever this new sensation he’s feeling over the man is needs to go, because obviously, Kakarot is not as serious as he says, and Vegeta clearly doesn’t know what he wants.

Thursday came and Vegeta showed up at Capsule Corp. a little earlier than he usually does. He’d run out of coffee at his house, so he walked right into Bulma’s mansion like he normally does and headed to the kitchen. Anyone he passed merely nodded at him in greeting, but he didn’t pay them any mind, and once he found what he was looking for, he proceeded to make himself a pot.

Once the machine was through brewing, Vegeta poured himself a cup. He was just taking a sip when suddenly, he heard a gasp from behind him.

“Vegeta!” Bulma exclaimed, “For a second I thought I was dreaming!”

He turned to her and smirked, “It must be a good dream.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “There’s coffee in the break room down by the labs you know.”

“Yes, but I happen to know that this is the good coffee.”

“So, you think you can just help yourself to everything I own, huh?”

“You’ve never stopped me from helping myself to your things before,” he grinned.

She laughed, “Stop flirting with me, Vegeta, what would the help think if they heard you?”

He chuckled, “The help? They don’t think.”

“I’m not talking about the robots.”

“Neither am I.”

She smirked, but asked him a little more seriously, “Did anybody see you come in this morning?”

“Ah, yes, a few of your employees. Is that who you meant?” He mocked, “I suppose they are the ones you should be worried about running their mouths.”

She laughed as she approached him but didn’t respond to his remark. She pulled a mug out of the cabinet to pour some coffee for herself. As she took a small sip, her eyes flicked up to his and she said, “Mm, I’ve missed the way you make coffee.”

He chuckled again, looking at her lovely face. Her hair still had some rollers in it, but her makeup and her outfit were already on point for seven o’clock in the morning and she looked beautiful and lively as usual. Vegeta smirked at her. He always did think she was a remarkable woman. Even now, twenty years later.

“What the hell are you looking at me like that for?” She said as she swats at his bicep playfully.

“Like what?” Vegeta answered with a lazy drawl.

She smiled confidently, “Like you miss me or something.”

Vegeta smirked, “I never said I didn’t.”

She cocked her head to the side for a moment, before she sighed and said, somewhat serious, “Oh, stop it, Vegeta.”

Vegeta sensed something… off.

Bulma turned away from him, taking another drink, and then she said, “You know, it’s a nice surprise to see you here like this. But…”

Vegeta eyed her closely. Discerningly.

Bulma sighed, “Vegeta… I…”

Vegeta recognized it then. The abrupt change in her demeanor, the way she batted her lashed away from him and wouldn’t meet his gaze. The way she curled in on herself.

The good mood she was in the last time he was here.

He finished her sentence for her, “You’re seeing someone.”

She hesitated before meeting his gaze and nodded, saying, “Yes…”

Vegeta chuckled, but all he replied was, “Tell me he’s not staying over here.”

Bulma tapped her nail on the mug and answered, “He’s not staying over here. Not yet anyways. But it would probably be best if you don’t show up in my kitchen to make coffee at seven o’clock in the morning from now on, either way. You might scare him off.”

Vegeta tutted, “So that’s what you meant by asking who saw me.”

Bulma leaned back against the counter and said, “I’m not serious about the coffee thing, Vegeta. You’re more than welcome to come and go as you please, I just…”

“Don’t want to shock him by seeing me in your home?”

“I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else first.”

“Does he know that I work for you?”

“No, we haven’t really talked too much about—”

“Well, you must be doing _something_ together for you to be serious about him.”

“Vegeta.”

“Has he met Bra?”

“Not yet.”

“But he’s been over here…” Vegeta nodded, “I see.”

“Vegeta…”

“That’s why you’ve been wanting me to come pick up Bra and get her out of the house.”

“No! That’s not true! He’s not here that much! Besides, she has lessons that I take her to and—”

Vegeta held up his hand at her before stepping away, “I don’t want to know anything else. As long as you’re happy and Bra is safe that’s all I care about.” He stopped for a moment and asked over his shoulder, “How well do you know this man?”

“Bra is safe, Vegeta.”

Raising his brow, he wondered, “You’re sure?”

“Yes…” she nodded, and then she added earnestly, “But I’d still like you to consider what we talked about. I still think you should be here more often, for more than just our protection. And I do want you to meet him, you know. At some point in time…”

Vegeta pulled out his phone and said, “My, would you look at the time. I’m going to be late for a very important meeting with my boss.”

“Vegeta.”

“Don’t forget about those rollers in your hair,” he added, and he was lucky enough to catch her blush and her embarrassed stammer before turning the corner to his escape.

He headed through the house and down to the labs leisurely, mulling over their conversation as he tried to prepare himself enough to be able to focus, but he honestly couldn’t believe that Bulma had found someone new. Not that men aren’t interested in her, of course they are, and he knows that she’s dated before, but she’s picky. Almost as picky as he is.

Upon walking into the labs, he was met with one familiar face and one that he’s never seen before.

“Good morning, Vegeta!” Gohan called out to him cheerily.

He eyed the young man as well as the second employee but only grunted in reply.

Gohan smiled at him and said in jest, “Did you drive here with that coffee mug? Uh, I mean, don’t you have a travel one?” he laughed, “I would have spilled it everywhere.”

Vegeta smirked at him, but again, didn’t reply. He took a sip, somewhat amused.

Gohan seemed to understand his ways of silence, and he gestured to the third man in the room and said, “This is Robert Sharp. Robert, this is Vegeta Briefs.”

“Vegeta Briefs,” Robert said, nodding at him, “You’re Bulma’s ex-husband, right?”

“The one and only,” Vegeta replied.

Gohan smiled, “Ah, you really are Mr. Popular, huh, Vegeta?”

“You can say that again,” Robert retorted.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t respond.

Robert grinned, “I heard you were at that meeting last month. Everybody I’ve talked to at Capsule Corp. must have been talking about your appearance there. I wasn’t sure if it were really true, I mean, I just didn’t think she’d hire her ex, no offense, but then Gohan here told me that the two of you have been working together. I was wondering when I was going to get the chance to meet you. I hate that I had to miss the meeting that day.”

“Seems like you got the cliff notes,” Vegeta remarked.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Robert replied, “Are you and Bulma seeing each other again? I’ve heard she’s been dating someone, but no one seems to know who the guy is, and then you show up…”

Vegeta answered, annoyed, “Do you always take such an eager interest in the personal relationships of your bosses?”

Gohan stayed out their conversation as Robert answered, “Ah, no. I didn’t mean anything. You can’t blame me for bringing it up, though.? I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you two were trying to work it out, that’s all I’m saying.”

“My relationships, and Ms. Briefs’, are none of your concern,” Vegeta growled.

Robert said, “You’re right! We’re here for business! I have just heard a lot about you, that’s all. Are you planning on staying with the company for some time, then?”

Vegeta frowned, not buying his mock-innocence or his faux idolism, and put-off by his curiosity, he told him, “Are you?”

Robert, changing his tone quickly again, answered, “Oh yes, definitely! Tell me, what do you do here? Do you work part time like us?”

Vegeta took another sip of coffee before he replied sarcastically, “Oh, you don’t know?”

“No, do you work on the equipment, or something? You used to do work for Capsule Corp. before, didn’t you?” Robert answered.

“Yes,” Vegeta explained with a smirk, “but I don’t work on the equipment. I’m just here for moral support.”

Robert thought about it before he laughed, “Oh, you’re joking. You almost got me. What do you do, really?”

“You really want to know?” Vegeta said, “I’m head of staff efficiency.”

“So, you’re here to make sure we’re doing our jobs?”

“Something like that.”

Gohan blinked twice at that as he listened, and it was the only indication that he was thinking anything about their conversation.

Robert seemed to be contemplating how serious Vegeta was being, before he nodded, cracked a smile and said, “Very funny. If that were the case, I would have met you sooner.”

Vegeta tilted his chin, “Why is that? Are you not doing your job?”

Gohan chuckled at that.

Bulma came in, hair all fixed, and immediately began spewing off what their jobs would entail for the day.

Vegeta hardly listened, and instead he watched the other two men closely, but discretely, yet he found that he couldn’t get the idea of Bulma seeing someone else out of his mind.

Two days later, Vegeta got out of bed and immediately recognized that he was in a terrible mood. He wasn’t upset about anything in particular, at least, nothing that he could think of exactly, although he could think of a few reasons. This type of thing happens to everyone, though; sometimes people just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Vegeta assumed that’s what was happening to him, because he couldn’t see why he would be in such a mood _today_ as opposed to yesterday.

Perhaps _yesterday_ he was in denial and today he was coming to terms with reality. 

Even he sometimes finds his negativity unbearable, and today it was as though he was trying to outdo himself. He grumbled as he made his coffee, bitched at his computer as he worked, blew off any men and women at the gym trying to hit on him, bombed a phone interview, and then proceeded to yell at Trunks when Trunks got home from school for some stupid that usually doesn’t bother him.

He was just in a bad mood.

He knew that going out wasn’t going to help anything, but he needed a change of scenery, bad, so when 8 o’clock rolled around, and he wasn’t tired, he decided to head out to a nice restaurant he usually doesn’t go to on the other side of town and sit at the bar with a book as per usual.

Dinner was nice, but the book wasn’t distracting enough to take him from his thoughts, try as he might to get lost in the pages.

He was feeling some type of way, ever since Bulma had told him that she was in a new relationship and ever since he met Gohan’s annoying, yet intuitive coworker, Robert Sharp.

He’s been feeling some type of way ever since he met Kakarot. Ever since he got out of his last, short-lived, and very secret relationship. Ever since he got divorced. Ever since he got married.

He flipped to another page and read but couldn’t digest the words as he internally admitted that he might as well call it what it is- jealousy and disappointment that Bulma was moving on and that he had somehow managed to do exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t; accepted her help and remained unchanged and unproductive.

He’s working for the very woman he once cheated on, which had resulted in the ruin of their marriage, the outing of his biggest secret, the solidification of his deepest fears, the transfiguration of his life, and the damnation of any possibility of a normal relationship with his children.

What _is_ a normal relationship, anyways? He doesn’t even have a normal relationship with himself.

Who the hell is he trying to kid in the first place?! Their marriage was doomed from the start. He’s been running away from himself for years. He should just accept the fact that he’s probably going to turn out just like his father, and how could he have ever believed that he was going to make something of himself when he didn’t know how to hold onto anything for more than five minutes at a time?!

He slapped his book shut. No amount of philosophical theoretics and stimulating proses were going to convince him that the decisions he’s made have somehow managed to bring him to precisely where he’s meant to be at this very moment in time.

He checked the time, it was nearing 11pm and he didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to face his son after their ridiculous argument earlier, and, still in a shit mood, he certainly didn’t want to risk becoming privy to whatever mischief he was certain his son was up to at the moment.

He asked for the check as he contemplated what the hell his problem truly was. He was always trying to figure out what his problem was.

Bulma finding someone else didn’t necessarily bother him. Bra having a potentially positive father figure in her life didn’t necessarily bother him, either. The fact that it could have been him there all along, though, that bothered him. The fact that he wanted to walk away and never see them again, that bothered him, too. The fact that he wanted to wash his hands of his ties to his family, that really bothered him, because he knew that if he did, he’d simply be falling into his father’s footsteps, and he’s tried so hard to avoid doing just that, but wouldn’t things be so much easier if he did?

And then there’s the job crisis. He couldn’t believe he’d been so off his game during that interview, either. It was the only one he’d been offered in a month and it could have _at least_ solved the problem of him working for his ex-wife and looking like a complete jackass whenever Bulma finally does convince him to meet this mystery man she’s seeing.

Vegeta admittedly hadn’t been expecting that phone call, and it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Still, he should have been able to pull himself together better than that. Smart mouthing your potential boss over a question, potentially incriminating or not, is never a good idea.

He should have handled things better, and not just in this matter, but from the very beginning.

He should have had the foresight to _not_ merge his hard-earned fortune with Bulma’s when they’d first gotten married. _“Invest in this product,”_ she’d said, _“You’ll turn over a profit in the stocks,”_ she’d said, and he fell for it.

She was just genius enough to use his money to make more of her own, and she certainly didn’t see him as potentially leaving her, but she managed to one-up him there, too. He didn’t realize it then, but because he never signed a prenuptial agreement, and everything that he’d invested in and signed was _also_ in her name, _and because of the proof of the infidelity used in the court room,_ he was fated to lose everything to her when they got divorced, and he just let it happen.

He _should_ have thought a little longer about his place in their marriage and considered that perhaps he ought to have been making his _own_ money instead of playing with stocks _in her name_ and staying at home as a somewhat available father to their children and dabbling in local fighting rings for fun on the side, while Bulma and her father immersed themselves in running Capsule Corp in their combined obsessions. At least their obsessions paid the bills legitimately.

Vegeta felt like a fool as he paid for his meal with the very money that he _technically_ could have possessed _without_ working for his ex had he thought things through and never married in the first place.

But that’s not the real problem. The real problem is that he _knew_ he was more interested in men than in women when he married her, but he did it because it was the socially correct thing to do, and because he was afraid that if he didn’t, he’d eventually embarrass himself. Because at the end of the day, Trunks is right; in a way he _has been_ covering up the fact that he’s gay. Males aren’t the only sex he takes homes, after all, but they are more often than not, and yet he’s still unwilling to admit publicly that he’s more interested in men than women, and deep down, he knew that he was just living a lie.

It’s why he didn’t want to bother with married or confused men. He didn’t need their confusion adding to his. It’s also part of why he didn’t want to get into a serious relationship. Because then everyone would know that he really was in so much denial that he married a woman to try and solidify his own lies. Not that anyone’s opinion of him should really matter, but he’s tried so hard to for so long to remain untouched by his past and unreachable by those around him, that letting go of that part of his pride that he’s instilled in himself is nearly impossible. Not to mention that he just doesn’t think he has anything more to offer anyone other than what’s available at the surface of his being. Digging any deeper would simply uncover festering rot, and crumble what little foundation of personality facets he has left.

He thought of Kakarot and he wondered why is it that some people just seem to have it all figure out.

He grumbled to himself as he headed out the doors of the restaurant. He didn’t want to think anymore but going home and going to sleep wasn’t an option.

Vegeta finds himself at a bar thirty minutes later, and an hour after that, he realizes that he must not have eaten very much today because he is feeling way more buzzed than he usually does for having only had three drinks and shot, including the two beers he’d had a dinner.

It felt good, though. He was starting to feel loose. This is the feeling he’d been looking for. It only happens once every so often, and Vegeta planned on making the most of it.

After a little while, he left the bar he was in, not seeing anyone of interest, and he headed for another one. Once inside he downed another shot and ordered a beer. It didn’t take long for a handsome man to come up to talk to him and Vegeta was in the perfect mood to give him a chance. The man quickly introduced himself as Kyle, and Vegeta decided that tonight he would introduce himself as Hunter.

Kyle was a little bit of a smart ass from the get-go, which Vegeta didn’t mind, he simply matched him word for word, making sure to keep it flirtatious and not totally insulting. At least the conversation wasn’t completely boring even if it was completely pointless.

Vegeta looked for a wedding ring and didn’t find one, which didn’t mean that he wasn’t married, but at least he wasn’t completely stupid. He looked for other tells in the man that he might get him into trouble, but he wasn’t finding many, and so he wondered if he would be a good fuck as the man tried to flirt with him. He was having a hard time staying focused on him, though, what with his other more personal thoughts, but drinking was helping.

It didn’t take long for Kyle to offer for them to move away from the bar and get a seat by themselves at one of the high-tops closer to the dance floor. Vegeta didn’t understand the point, but he was flexible under circumstances such as these, so he paid his tab at the bar, grabbed his beer, and obliged him, allowing him to lead him further into the crowd.

Once seated, Kyle proceeds to lean in a little closer, placing his hand on Vegeta’s knee and whispering into his ear, asking him about what his plans are for tonight. Vegeta was feeling just drunk enough to consider letting him take him home, despite an unexplainable hiccup of emotional destitution in his chest, but he wasn’t ready yet, and he wasn’t sure whether he really wanted to go home with him or not.

“I want another beer,” Vegeta told him and he flagged down a cocktail waitress quickly.

“I have beer back at my place,” Kyle told him, squeezing his thigh.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and moved his leg away from him, “If that’s the best you’ve got, you might want to give up now.”

Kyle chuckled, “Like you weren’t already thinking about getting out of here with me.”

Vegeta smized, “Get a brain of your own before attempting to read mine.”

The waitress made her way through the crowds and when she came up to them, Kyle ordered them both another round of shots and another beer.

Vegeta chuckled after she left, “I thought you were ready to go?”

“Not without you, I’m not,” Kyle replied, leaning closer again, and kissing Vegeta’s neck.

Vegeta pushed him off and said, “Back off. I’m not a fan of such public displays.”

“Really?” Kyle doubted, leaning in again.

“Don’t push your luck,” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, pulling away from him again, but still flirtatious, he said, “Or I might have to prove you wrong.”

Kyle only chuckled, “I’m hoping you’ll prove me right. I have a good feeling about you, Hunter.”

Finishing his beer, Vegeta smirked at the amusement he found in his chosen nickname for the night and told him, “Don’t worry, if either of us is going to be disappointed, it’s going to be me.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?”

Vegeta shrugged in confidence. The waitress was quick with their order, and they took their shots together before chasing it with a drink from their beers.

Another small bout of conversation over nothing followed, which included Kyle complimenting Vegeta numerous times, and asking him what he did for a living. Vegeta gave him bullshit responses, and it wasn’t long before the man attempting to move in on him again.

“Let’s get out of here…”

Vegeta felt the alcohol catching up to him, and as much as he knew he would normally want to go, he was just about completely wasted. His chest tightened in unease as his conversation with himself from earlier still bounced around even his drunken mind. He shouldn’t be here right now, and he shouldn’t go home with him, not while he’s in a state like this. It would just be sloppy sex meant for some sort of self-validation. He was better than that.

But he didn’t want to go home. 

He pushed him away and remarked, still sorting through his flitting thoughts, “What did I tell you about keeping your distance?”

Just then, Vegeta felt the presence of someone behind him and he tensed instinctually as he heard Kyle speaking:

“Hey, can we help you pal?”

A moment later Vegeta felt a warm hand on his shoulder and there was a faint wisp of breath rolling through his hair as he hears a sweet voice talking over him.

“Hey, Vegeta, is this guy bothering you?”

Vegeta looks up and over his shoulder to find none other than Kakarot, who is staring down the man Vegeta was entertaining with a neutral expression. Vegeta doesn’t speak, he can’t, and he realizes that if he thought he was too drunk to deal with Kyle, then he’s definitely too fucking drunk to deal with Kakarot.

His mind slowly catches up to everything going on as a strange confrontation ensues, and Vegeta feels so many emotions welling up inside of him, threatening to boil over, that he doesn’t know which ones to squash or which ones to share anymore, and he doesn’t think he can manage to resist doing either.

Kyle eyes Goku and says, “Hey, man, I think you’ve got him confused for someone else,” he looks at Vegeta questioningly as he asks, “Do you know this guy, Hunter?”

“Hunter?” Goku says, confused. His hand grips Vegeta’s shoulder a little tighter.

Vegeta turns to Kyle and stammers, “I, I don’t know,” and he looks up and Kakarot and smirks, “Maybe I do,” He chuckles through his inebriation, “Yes, sort of. A little, I think.” He cocks his head to the side as he feigns ignorance, “ _Goku_ , right?” he laughs, his head falling back onto Goku’s shoulder.

As Vegeta looks at him again, he wholeheartedly disbelieves his own luck. He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders to free himself of the comforting weight of Goku’s hand placed upon him, and he stands up in an attempt to put some distance between them, confused and embarrassed as his heart races at Goku’s sudden appearance. All the rest of the crowd around them completely disappears.

“Vegeta…” Goku mutters, catching Vegeta by his elbow as he stumbles away from him in his clumsy attempt at trying to stand after dislodging his shoulder from his grip.

“Goku!” Vegeta laughs again, planting his hands on Goku’s broad chest as he regains his balance. It felt so good to touch him, but he immediately pushes off and away from him, like he’d been burned. Drunkenly, he chimes, “ _Goku!_ That’s what your _friends_ call you, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Kyle starts, standing up and moving in closer to Vegeta. He eyes Goku and says, “Nice to meet you, Goku, but Hunter and I were just about to go.”

Vegeta huffs, in shock, while his eyes, vision slightly blurred, were still homing in on Kakarot, and he says, mockingly, “Goku, Goku, Goku! _Goku Son!_ World Martial Arts Tournament Champion! World’s Best Father! World’s _nicest_ guy! _Protector! Personal Trainor!_ A _friend_ to _all_!”

Goku pouts, “Vegeta…”

“His name is _Hunter,_ ” Kyle corrects, and standing up he asks, “Hunter, what the hell is going on?”

“Kyle!” Vegeta blurts out, “Let me tell you! Goku own his own gym. He’s _great_ with money, too. He’s a hard worker. A stand-up citizen! And he knows how to stick to a commitment. Right, _Goku_? And look at that face! Fuck, just look at every bit of you! You’re just the Perfect. Fucking. Man,” Vegeta huffed at him, then he laughed and said, “I feel like I’m forgetting something? Am I forgetting anything?! Or did I get all of that right?”

Goku’s lips part as he looks Vegeta over with some degree of concern mixed with something Vegeta knew he wouldn’t have been able to decipher even if he was sober.

Vegeta turns to Kyle and says, pointing at Goku, “You have no idea! How amazing! _This man is_. No, really! The first time we met, he paid for my groceries. Who the fuck does that?! Have you met? Anyone? Do you know anybody who does that? I don’t!”

Kyle grabbed Vegeta by the waist and pulled him close, saying, “Ok, I think you’re drunk and it’s time to go.”

Vegeta slurs, “He is the nicest guy I have ever known, and I’ve known tons of men,” and he pushes himself away from Kyle, now pointing at him, “You have no idea.”

Kyle pulls him back to him, and tells him, “Yeah, that’s fine. It’s time to take you home, Hunter,” and he looks over at Goku and says, arrogantly, “Thanks for stopping by but I’ve got it from here.”

Goku’s expression darkens. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?” Kyle remarks. Vegeta throws his head back and laughs.

Goku watched them both with calculating eyes as he asks him, “Do you know where he lives?”

“Yeah, of course, I do,” the man waves him off, beginning to walk away, forcing Vegeta with him. Vegeta struggles a little but doesn’t fight his hold with very much gusto and it’s clear to Goku that he’s not himself.

“Where does he live?” Goku asks sharply, shifting his weight to block them from moving past him.

Vegeta burst into laughter again and pulls himself away from Kyle, saying, “What are you thinking?!” and he looks at Goku and adds, “This is hilarious.”

“Shut up,” The guy tells Vegeta, grabbing onto him again, and then he scoffs at Goku and says, “Fuck you, that’s where.”

“Vegeta,” Goku growls, holding out his hand, “Come with me.”

Vegeta’s eyes raise to his momentarily and he tries to pull away from the man holding onto him, but he doesn’t go for Goku’s hand either.

“His name’s not Vegeta!” Kyle snarks, still clutching onto Vegeta.

Goku pays him no heed as he stares deeply into Vegeta’s eyes.

Vegeta suddenly laughs, breaking the man’s hold on him and placing his hands on the table in front of them to steady himself before he lifts off and says, “You know what?” He grabs his beer and chugs it, and then he declares, “Screw both of you, I’m not going anywhere with _either_ of you.” He takes an unsteady step and falters.

Goku steps in, steadying him by his biceps, and he whispers, trying to gain Vegeta’s undivided attention, “You’re not good to drive. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

The other man places a hand over Goku’s where it’s placed on Vegeta’s arm, and he tells him, “I’ve been talking to him all night. You’re not just going to swoop in here and take over, _Goku_. I told you already, I’ll take him home. He’s fine. Back off.”

Eyes narrowing, Goku tells him, “He’s not fine, and he’s sure as hell not leaving with you. Now let me go, and we can forget this ever happened.”

“Let you go?!” The man laughed.

“That’s right,” Goku nods.

Vegeta looks between the two of them and then he huffs and admits quietly into Goku’s chest, seemingly to no one but himself, “I don’t want to go home…”

Goku looks down at Vegeta and frowns as he watches him, his brows upturning a little. Vegeta was just shaking his head.

“Hunter, come on, tell this guy to fuck off,” Kyle interrupts, now trying to pull Vegeta to him again.

Vegeta jerks himself from both of their grasps, forcing them both to let go of him. He smirks, looks up at Goku, and says in his inebriation, “Did you hear that, _Goku_? He wants me to tell you to fuck off,” he chuckles, “He doesn’t know how many times I’ve already told you to do that.”

Goku let out a brief laugh and smiles at him.

“ _What_?! What are you talking about?” Kyle tries to interrupt them, “You’re just drunk, it’s time to go.”

“No,” Vegeta shakes his head him, “I’m notjustdrunk!” he declares, and then he turns to Goku and whispers, nearly inaudibly, “I’m an asshole, aren’t I?” He takes a step backing away and says, straightening out his jacket, “I’m fucking leaving.” He starts to walk away, then he turns back, pulls some cash from out of the back pocket of his jeans, and throws it on the table, before he glares at Kyle, then at Goku.

“Okay,” Goku nods, “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Whatever!” Vegeta chides as he begins to walk away, narrowly missing a chair as he heads through the crowd, towards the front door.

Goku watches him but Kyle quickly breaks him of his concentration.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” he tells Goku, simultaneously reaching out to shove Goku by the shoulder.

Goku grips him by the wrist and hand, touching a pressure point, and he twists his thumb painfully as he contorts his hand in a dangerous manner. The man chokes in pain but is unable to speak as Goku tells him, “Hunter is going home with me, now.”

The man growls at him and reaches out to hold on to his aching hand but he still can’t speak.

Goku explains, “I just happen to walk in here tonight because I was looking for someone… You’re lucky you’re not the person I was looking for.” With that he releases him, his jaw set as he stares him down and he turns to walk away, leaving the man nursing his twisted wrist in utter shock and surprising pain.

When Goku finally makes it outside he looks around quickly, his eyes darting this way and that, trying desperately to find Vegeta. Once he finally does spot him, he sees that Vegeta is attempting to get into his car.

“Shit!” he says to himself before taking off in his direction. Raising his voice, he cries out, “Hey Vegeta, wait! Wait a minute!”

“Fuck you!” Vegeta cries, yanking the door open, climbing inside, and then slamming his door shut.

Goku was fast, though, and luckily Vegeta was drunk, so that by the time he approached the car Vegeta hadn’t been able to lock him out of it. Goku jerked the door open and reached in, pulling Vegeta out of it in spite of his protests.

“Stop this, Vegeta,” he urges gently.

“What are you doing here?” Vegeta asks him, growling, but hardly putting up a fight now that Goku has gotten him to stand back up.

Goku shakes his head, “Please, just let me take you home. You’re not driving tonight.”

“I told you _I don’t want to go home!_ ” Vegeta snaps. He presses his hands into his face as he mutters, “Do you even listen?!”

“Okay,” Goku hums, grabbing onto Vegeta’s hands to take them away from his face. “Come back to my place, then, yeah? You can stay the night.”

“Your place?!” Vegeta balks, and then he presses his forehead into Goku’s chest and mutters, “Go to _your_ place?!”

“Come on,” Goku sighs, reaching up to rub at Vegeta’s shoulders, “Do you have all your things? Phone, wallet, keys?” Goku chuckles, “You definitely have your keys.”

“Yes, I have my keys!” Vegeta pulls back, pushing him away. He then opens his car door, pulls his keys out of the ignition, and then he slams the door shut and shows them to Goku, jingling them at him.

Goku smiled gently, “Okay, good. Where’s your phone?”

“Right here!” Vegeta remarks smartly, pulling it out of his jacket pocket. He leans back on his car and crosses his arms as he slurs, “Iamnotsloppy. Iknowwheremyshitis. You got that?”

Goku couldn’t help but laugh a little, and he nods and says, “Okay, I got it. You sure are stubborn, though, you know that?”

Vegeta smirks, and then he takes a deep breath and pouts, before he stands back up and says, “Goodnight, Kakarot!” and he turns and tries to get into his car again.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Goku says softly, and he wraps his arm around Vegeta’s shoulder and begins to gently guide him away from his car.

“Where are we going?!” Vegeta argues, but he allows himself to be lead, leaning against Goku’s hold.

“We’re going to my place,” Goku hums.

“Your place?” Vegeta asks for the third time, squinting and stumbling.

“Yeah,” Goku smiles, shaking his shoulders slightly as he helps to hold him up, “Hey, are you hungry?”

“ _You’rehungry_ ,” Vegeta insists.

Amused, Goku asks, “Do you have your wallet on you, Vegeta? I think I might have forgotten mine at home.”

“Yes, I have my wallet on me!” Vegeta tells him proudly, fishing it out of the inside of his jacket, “I can buy _you_ groceries this time!” and he scoffs again, as though reliving the moment.

Goku turns to him and smiles at that comment, but he didn’t say anything in response.

Vegeta puts his wallet away, dropping his keys in the process. They stop and he bends over to pick them up. When he stands back up, Goku notices as some type of shield of emotion comes over his face. They both remain silent the rest of the walk to Goku’s car.

Once they get in, Goku turns the car over, allowing it to warm up. He switches the volume on the radio to low as he turns to Vegeta and asks, “You okay?”

“I’m great, justfuckinggreat,” Vegeta sneers, refusing eye contact with him.

Goku bites back a sigh and decides to just drive.

Vegeta suddenly turns to him and asks, “Wereyouserious about food?”

“I’m always serious about food,” Goku grins.

“Shutup,” Vegeta says and then he turns away from him again.

Goku chuckles but does as Vegeta requested.

After another moment or so, Vegeta turns to him and stares.

Goku glances over at him, but he stays focused on the road.

Vegeta continues to look at him, but he says nothing. Finally, he looks away.

“I have some left-over pizza at my house, how does that sound?” Goku asks.

Vegeta doesn’t answer.

“Do you want to listen to anything on the radio?” Goku wonders.

Vegeta doesn’t reply.

Licking his lips, Goku says, “Did you want anything else to drink?”

Still, Vegeta says nothing.

They go the rest of the car ride in silence. It isn’t until they arrive at his house, and Goku opens his front door to let them both inside, that Vegeta finally decides to speak.

“Is your son here?” he asks in a voice uncommonly meek for him.

“I’m pretty sure he’s at your place,” Goku tells him, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. “Here, let me get your jacket, Vegeta.”

Vegeta jerks away from him as he looks around the somewhat familiar, cozy home he’s not used to being in, and he heads straight for the couch. He sits down and goes back to his holding his head in his hands.

Goku swallows hard as he’s watching him and says, “I’ll warm up that pizza. Be right back.”

Goku preheats the oven and brings a beer and a water into the living room for Vegeta, setting both on the coffee table in front of him. “Want to watch anything on TV?” He asks, and he turns it on and then hands Vegeta his remote. Vegeta tosses it on the couch rudely.

“A movie, maybe?” he offers.

Vegeta opens the beer and takes a sip but still doesn’t answer.

“You’re really quiet,” Goku goads, “Usually you’re yelling at me right about now.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Vegeta glares at the TV.

“You sure?” Goku smiles, “You had a lot to say back at the bar.”

Vegeta’s glare turns up to him, but he only growls and refuses to answer.

“I’ll get it out of you, yet,” Goku insists, but he doesn’t push it. He just turns away to tend to their food.

In the kitchen, Goku pops open a beer of his own and takes a long swig. He waits for the oven to reheat, hoping to give Vegeta a chance to calm down while allowing himself the opportunity to gather his wits.

When he comes back from putting the pizza in the oven, he sees that Vegeta had leaned over on the couch and was now deep asleep.

Goku sat down beside him and woke him up, though, shaking him gently. “Hey,” he said as Vegeta stirred.

Vegeta glared up at him, looking him over.

Quietly, Goku asked him, “You weren’t really going to let him take you home, were you?”

Throwing his arm over his face to block out the vision of him, Vegeta muttered, “Why are you doing this to me?”

Goku grabbed onto his arm and pulled it up and out of the way before he asked him, “What are you talking about?”

Still mumbling, Vegeta asked, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you said you didn’t want to go home.”

“Why were you at the bar?” Vegeta asked, barely coherent.

“I… Vegeta, what does that matter?”

“What do you want from me?” Vegeta wondered, whispering.

“I… I want _you_ , Vegeta,” Goku admitted, “I like you.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Goku smiled, “What’s not to like?”

Sitting up, suspicious but drunk enough to forgo his fears, Vegeta hesitated, but leaned forward and kissed him.

Goku returned his kiss, but only for a moment. He pulled away and told him, “I think you should eat something… The pizza should be ready soon. I… I’ll be right back.”

Vegeta sat there, leaning on his elbow as Goku stood up and walked away. He watched him longingly, foolishly, still disgustingly drunk, and feeling too much to discern anything clearly.

When Goku came back, Vegeta was sitting up again, looking despondent and out of it. He handed Vegeta a plate as he sat down beside him. They ate in silence as Goku switched through the channels, trying to find something to watch. Nothing felt right. There was too much left unsaid, but neither man dared to speak.

When Vegeta was finished eating, he leaned over towards Goku and placed his head against his shoulder. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

The moment he woke up, it only took a second to realize that he was sleeping on the Goku’s couch, which he’d pulled out into a bed, and completed by giving him a pillow and covering him with a blanket.

Hungover, Vegeta made moves to get the hell out of Goku’s house as quickly and as quietly as possible. His entire morning was filled with the panic of Goku waking up and coming out of his bedroom to find him still there, giving them a chance to _talk_ about what had happened the night before. So, after calling for a ride and swiping the water that Goku had left out for him, he left his house, heading to the place that he’d told the uber to pick up him.

He felt nauseous, and not just because he was hungover. He had been drunk the night before, for sure, but he could still remember most of the details of their conversation at the bar, and at his house, and he was absolutely mortified at himself.

It didn’t take that long to get back to the bar and then to get home. The moment he walked into the door, Trunks and Goten greeted him from the couch where they were playing video games. Trunks threw out a casual question about how his night had been that was laced with sarcasm and intrigue, but Vegeta ignored him, went straight to his room, and went back to sleep.

If he was lucky, he wouldn’t wake up. He did, of course, and while his hangover had mostly subsided, his mortification had not.


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when I post a chapter, I envision Goku in DBZA under the water of planet Namek, when he had the two ki balls and Frieza couldn't detect him... and he says, "... Go my children..." lol IDK can you tell I'm excited about this update? :D Enjoy

13

A week went by and Vegeta’s annoyance and utter embarrassment at himself had finally begun to subside. Kakarot hadn’t texted or called, as per usual, and even though Vegeta was confused, he was grateful. He had spent the time immersing himself in work and working out and nothing more. He sure as hell wasn’t going back out drinking anytime soon.

He spent the following week doing pretty much the same thing, and by the time the day of Trunks’ Prom arrived, Vegeta wholly welcomed the distraction for once. Bulma had insisted that he come over so they could take pictures as a family and even though Vegeta rolled his eyes at the whole ordeal, he decided to humor her anyways.

When he pulled up to Capsule Corp. though, he was shocked to see another car there, a car that didn’t belong. _Kakarot’s car._

All the feelings of humiliation that he’d thought he’d rid himself of threatened to consume him all over again. Vegeta wasn’t sure he could handle seeing the man like this, so casually, and so surrounded by their families, especially after his drunken episode two weeks ago. He hadn’t seen or heard from the man since he had been rescued from the bar and taken back to his house.

Why is he even _here_?!

He thought about turning the car around and heading back home. He could always just say he didn’t feel like coming when Bulma asked about it later. It wouldn’t be strange for him not to show up. He was already here, though, and fleeing like some sort of wounded animal would be absurd. He shook his head and stayed the course, parking, and stepping out of his car as he gathered his nerve.

When he got inside of the home, he headed to the patio, where he saw that Bulma, Trunks, Goku, and Goten were all standing around talking. He watched carefully, still concealed on the inside as he noticed that Bulma was on the phone, an assistant standing beside her, and Goku was preoccupied, facing away from him, as he jested with their sons. Vegeta wondered where Bra was, but he figured she’d just run off for a moment and that she’d be around shortly.

He took a deep breath before walking through the doors, trying to go unnoticed.

“Hey, dad!” Trunks called, spotting him immediately. Goten echoed his greeting and Kakarot turned around.

Vegeta looked over at them, and caught Kakarot’s eyes as he turned, but Vegeta merely nodded to his son as he tried to play the moment of eye-contact with Kakarot off as nothing. He blinked casually and turned his attention to one of the tables where refreshments were laid out, all in a rouse to hide this weird feeling of utter insecurity that he was having. Goku had smiled right at him.

The timing was funny, because within seconds, Dr. Briefs and Bunny came out to the patio from behind Vegeta, and they called out to him as well. They greeted him genially as always and told him that it was good to see him, and to help himself to the refreshments, as they asked for Trunks and Goten to come inside for a moment.

The boys ran off with them. Bulma hung up the phone, but she was immediately pulled away by her assistant.

Goku took the opportunity to walk up to Vegeta alone, and he did so with all the confidence of a man who somehow manages to never make a fool of himself.

“Hey, Vegeta,” he said casually once he was close enough, “Bulma mentioned that she wasn’t sure if you were going to show up or not.”

“Surprise,” Vegeta growled, still looking down at the table filled with an assortment of foods, but he had absolutely no appetite.

Goku laughed. Vegeta hated it.

“It’s good to see you,” Goku told him.

Vegeta glared up at him.

Bulma’s assistant finished speaking with her, and she was now coming over to them, hollering Vegeta’s name.

Vegeta was glad for her interruption, but he turned away from both her and Kakarot, nervous about Bulma’s keen senses. One false move and she’ll know something is up.

She said, obliviously, “When did you sneak in here?” she looked up at Goku, “I gotta say, I heard a little rumor about you two.”

Vegeta turned and gave her a wide-eyed stare.

She smiled, “Goten said you guys have sparred before! Is that true? How’d that go?”

Goku answered, “Good! We’ve sparred a few times, actually. Vegeta’s a great fighter.”

She looked at Vegeta, “Oh, I know he is. So does he,” she winked, “I bet Goku gives you a run for your money, huh, Vegeta? You need someone who can keep you on your toes.”

Snorting, Vegeta retorted, “I fair just fine on my own.” He thought, _‘Except for every time he’s around, for some reason, and especially when I’m drunk.’_

Bulma rolled her eyes, and looked back at Goku, “I’m sure you’ve learned by now that Vegeta’s a little rough around the edges.”

Goku chuckled, “I’ve noticed, but I don’t mind. I like his attitude.”

“You _what_?!” Vegeta growled in surprise.

Goku grinned down at him, “Yeah, you’re unpredictable. I never know what you’re gonna say next!”

Vegeta had to keep his jaw from dropping in his shock and embarrassment, but for once, he was actually speechless.

Bulma mused, “Only you could say that Goku! Hey, Vegeta, did you know that Goku here is a World Martial Arts Champion?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare Kakarot down and he said, “I’ve heard.”

She turned to Goku and wondered, “Has Vegeta ever told you about the fights he enters sometimes?”

“Huh?” Goku mused, breaking eye contact with Vegeta and turning his attention to her, “No! What fights?”

Vegeta fumed at Bulma, and remarked, “I came here to take pictures with Trunks, at _your request_ , so that I can be left in peace for another month until his graduation, not to talk about my private life!” The damage had been done, though, and Goku was now staring at him quizzically.

Bulma told her ex, “I know, I know. The boy’s dates are being picked up in limos as we speak, so you won’t have to be here for very long, and the pictures will only take a sec. Thanks for coming, by the way. I didn’t think you’d show up. You look nice.”

Still embarrassed, Vegeta remarked, trying to get the focus off of himself, “This is ridiculous. It’s nothing but a stupid high school ritual. A dance, at that.”

“Just because you never went to prom doesn’t mean that no one else should be allowed to enjoy it,” Bulma remarked, “Be happy for them.”

Goku chimed in, “I didn’t go to prom, either,” and he shrugged, “but the boys seem real excited. I’m sure they’ll have fun.”

Vegeta only scoffed, refusing to look at either of them.

Bulma gave Goku an odd look, “Why didn’t you go to prom, Goku?!”

“I never really was into school much,” he answered, noncommittally.

“Something else the two of you have in common!” Bulma said, “I’m still not sure how Vegeta over here ever managed to get his degree.”

“I managed it in my sleep,” Vegeta said, glaring at her.

Bulma rolled her eyes, “Oh, lighten up and have a drink. We’re taking pictures soon. I’ve gotta go make sure everything’s ready, I’ll see you guys again in a few.” With that she sauntered off.

Vegeta glared after her, his heart racing, but Goku was still staring at him. He looked around briefly, to make sure that they were still alone, before he turned to him and growled, speaking quietly, “Why are you here?”

“Bulma invited me,” Goku answered, and he lowered his voice as he told him, “And I was hoping you’d be here, too.”

Vegeta lowered his voice another decibel as he replied, “And why the hell is that?”

Goku told him, still whispering, “Come on, Vegeta…” Vegeta turned away and refused to dignify him with an answer. Goku added, “I meant it when I said that I have feelings for you. I… Do you remember me telling you that?”

Vegeta inhaled sharply, but he answered, “Haven’t you realized by now that you’re wasting your time with me?”

Kakarot smiled and replied, “I have never thought that any time I’ve spent with you was a waste.”

Vegeta’s heart swelled and he remarked, whispering harshly, “You’re wrong,” and he lied, “And I’m not interested in continuing these charades.”

Goku countered, “Really? Because from what I remember of what you said at the bar—”

“What of it?!” Vegeta countered, now blushing.

“You like me, too, Vegeta. Admit it.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Kakarot, but I want no part of it!”

“I’m not playing games,” Goku told him.

“Oh, no? If you like me so much,” Vegeta whispered harshly, “Then where the hell have you been? One minute you’re telling me you want to see me and the next I don’t hear from you for weeks at a time!”

Whispering back, Goku shifted his weight for a moment before he told him, “You’re hard to read, Vegeta… I’m sorry I haven’t called but I—”

“Spare me. We obviously _both_ have better things to do,” Vegeta growled low just as he heard his daughter’s voice crying out to him as she ran onto the patio.

Vegeta turned and focused on her, hoisting her up into his arms as he did his best to ignore the man staring at his back. Everyone else came back outside shortly after her and Vegeta did his best to put some distance between himself and Goku.

He continued to ignore Kakarot the entire time he was there- all through the cocktail hour, when Goku and Bulma fawned over the kids and how nice they looked, and all through the process of taking pictures.

The pictures were the lame, commemorative type. Too posed and too many of them for Vegeta’s tastes. The one drink he was nursing wasn’t enough to get him buzzed, not in the slightest, and his heart wouldn’t stop racing as he could feel the other man’s eyes on him the longer he stayed. He had to leave, as soon as possible, and he wracked his brain trying to think of a suitable retreat, because he had a feeling Bulma was going to try to get him to stay.

Once it was all over, and Trunks and Goten and their dates had headed out, Vegeta determined that his best chance for escape would be to whisk his daughter away with the temptation of going out to get some ice cream. Bulma was happy about the idea and gave her consent. Kakarot, although still watching him, didn’t say anything while Vegeta loaded up Bra in the car and left.

Crisis averted.

As he was leaving, he noticed Bulma and Goku talking. He wished he could hear that conversation, but not more than he wanted to get far, far away from them.

When he got back home a little more than an hour later, he was beside himself with what to do with his time. Trunks was gone and would be for the weekend and he had made no plans for himself.

His mind went to Kakarot, as it has become a habit now, but there was no point in thinking of him, especially not if he wants to keep his sanity.

He couldn’t even believe he’d actually said all of that to him!

As he thought about it more, and as he realized that he really _has_ been obsessing over the man, he realized that he didn’t even _want_ anyone else. He didn’t even want the _distraction_ of anyone else.

When the hell did _that_ happen?

He told himself it wasn’t true. He told himself not to even _think_ about it.

The best thing he could do with his time now was just to relax and enjoy the silence for once.

It was the next day, now Saturday night, a little after 7 o’clock, and Vegeta was sitting on the couch with nothing to do and he was feeling restless. Trunks is out of the house until tomorrow and Vegeta knew he should be thrilled, but Trunks had practically just come back from being away and Vegeta wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt a bit of forlorn about it.

He waved the thought off cynically as he sighed to himself. For the first time in a long time, Vegeta had absolutely nothing going on. No plans with Bra, no meetings, no work to do, no Trunks around to annoy him. He’d already worked out more than enough today and he was ahead of schedule for things at Capsule Corp. It should have felt like a nice break, but really, he didn’t like it at all. He was bored and wide awake, and Kakarot kept creeping into his thoughts.

Hadn’t he thought about the man enough already?!

He sat there, alone, trying to read a book, but he couldn’t focus on it to save his life.

After a while, he pulled out his phone and was perusing through news and social media when he found himself absently thumbing through his contacts. He wasn’t even sure who he was looking for, but when Kakarot’s name came up, he stopped there, and he stared at it. His thumb was dangerously close to flicking over it, initiating a sequence of events that he couldn’t turn back from if he did.

He _wanted_ to call him, but he just couldn’t. Not after yesterday. Not after the incident at the bar.

What even _was_ yesterday? What even was that night at the bar for that matter?! Where the hell _has_ Kakarot been, anyways? Who the hell does he think he is? Apologizing for not calling! Trying to talk to him like that while his family was around!

Besides, what would Vegeta say to him if he did call? _‘I was lying… I changed my mind… I want you… I need you… Get over here… I’m coming over…’_

Any of those would be just fine under any _other_ circumstances, for any _other_ man, but Kakarot…

Wait, what the hell is happening? Was he just about to say that Kakarot isn’t just _any other man_?! He _is_ just any other man!

Isn’t he?

Yes. He is. He’s nothing special. And Vegeta just can’t initiate something with him. He knows Bulma! He’s even met Bra! Vegeta works with his eldest son! And his youngest son is best friends with his own child! There’s too much going on there for Vegeta to even be _thinking_ about crossing the line with Kakarot.

But he still wants him, and he knows it. He wants all of him, some of him, _whatever he can get_. That damn man has kissed him several times now. Hell, Vegeta kissed _him_ the last time!

 _Kakarot_ insists that he wants to be with him, and yet _now_? Nothing.

Vegeta wasn’t used to the complications of relationships and he couldn’t understand why he was even still considering him at this point _._ Vegeta knew better than to indulge himself in such a dangerous ploy. Kakarot wasn’t asking for something meaningless, but his intentions still aren’t clear.

What _does_ he expect? Does he _want_ Vegeta to call _him_? It would be the same as Vegeta saying, _‘You win, I want you, you can have me. Oh, and while you’re at it, here’s my pride in a glass case, go ahead, hang it on your wall like a trophy.’_ Vegeta shuddered. _That_ is something he would _not_ do.

Even if he _did_ , even if only for the sake of a _fuck_ for his _own_ sense of pride, it’s not like they could _actually date_ one another! As he’s told himself time and time again, and based on his track record, Vegeta is _not_ a _relationship_ kind of guy. Besides, _he is not going through exposing himself as being in a relationship_ **especially** **not** _with the father of his son’s best friend._

Vegeta tossed his phone angrily to the side in a fit and got up off the couch, refusing to entertain the thought of calling him any longer.

If anything, he’s just going to have a few beers, watch a movie, and go to bed early. Like a normal person. He headed to the kitchen but then stopped and redirected himself to his bedroom to shower and change with a new motive in mind. He was not going to be the man with no life! He concluded that he must have lost his damn mind if he was just going to sit on the couch and stay in tonight while secretly, silently hoping for a phone call. He knew it was raining outside, it usually was in April, but he didn’t care. He was going to go out.

He hopped into the shower to clean himself up and clear his head, and once he got out, he got dressed in something a little more casual, still repeating his plan to himself. _‘Get something to eat. Go to the bar. No, no, get something to eat_ at _the bar. Have a few drinks. A_ few _drinks…Find someone decent. Go back to their place. Done. Perfect. Just like I always do… Like I_ used _to do. I have got to get that damn man out of my head! Ah, damn it, it’s too early to go to the bar. Get something to eat,_ then _go to the bar…’_

He was brushing his teeth when he heard a knock at the door. He looked at the clock. It’s barely past 8. He heard the knock again. He spat and rinsed his mouth before heading to the door to get it, hoping it wasn’t the cops.

When he opened the door, he was shocked to find a sopping wet Goku standing before him looking slightly out of breath.

“Kakarot?!” Vegeta cried, looking him over, “What are you—?”

“Vegeta!” Goku said, his voice frantic, “I tried to call you back, but you didn’t answer!”

“What the—?” Vegeta drew his brows together and glanced over at his phone, sitting innocently on the couch. He looked back up at Goku and mused, “I didn’t call you!” Then he exclaimed, surprising even himself, “Get in here! You’re absolutely drenched!”

Goku stepped inside laughing a little bit to himself, “Yeah,” he said, and he began peeling his jacket off.

“What the hell is this about?” Vegeta asked, watching him nervously. His clothes were clinging to him dangerously well.

Goku turned to him and explained, still a little breathless as he tossed his jacket off to the side, landing it on one of the chairs in the dining room, “I told you!” he shook his head, “I rushed over here from the gym! It’s _pouring_ outside!”

“I can see that…” Vegeta said, a little breathless himself as he looked him over.

Goku ran a hand through his hair, saying, “I missed your call, and when you didn’t answer after I called back several times…” he huffed, “I didn’t know what had happened, or what to think, but… I guess I… went into panic mode…”

Laughing at him, staring at him, Vegeta replied, slightly hysterical in his disbelief, “I did _not_ call you, you buffoon!”

Goku looked at him strangely before he pulled out his phone and, finding the evidence of his claims, he lifted it to Vegeta’s face, showing him the damped screen as he said, “Yes, you did.”

“Oh,” Vegeta replied, his face warming at his embarrassment. He glanced over at his phone again, sitting guiltily on the couch. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He must have flicked over his name on accident when he tossed his phone away earlier. He looked back up at Goku and didn’t know what to say for himself.

Goku closed the distance between them, though, and, clutching onto Vegeta’s back to bring him closer in one swoop of his strong arms, exciting and alarming Vegeta to a degree with which he was wholly unfamiliar experiencing, he kissed him.

Goku whispered as he broke their kiss, eyes heavy upon him, “Tell me you want me to stay, Vegeta. Tell me I didn’t come all the way here for no damn reason.”

Vegeta replied with a kiss without any hesitation. His body spoke before his mind could even register for him to deny it.

Seeming to have gotten the message loud and clear, Goku gripped him tighter and kissed him fervently. “Trunks is gone, right?” he asked, moving his lips down to Vegeta’s neck, “With Goten… at the hotel?”

“Yes,” Vegeta said shortly, exposing his neck to him, and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, clinging to him greedily.

Goku pressed his cold, wet body up against him, moving him backwards as he swarmed his neck with his mouth, leaning him against the front door. He reached out and locked it. “Habit,” he mumbled, in between nips, “Safety.”

Vegeta had no idea what he was talking about. Wasn’t even the slightest bit aware that he’d left the door unlocked. Didn’t care for that matter. All he cared about was that Kakarot was here. Right now.

The blur of getting back to his bedroom was distorted even further by the sheer passion with which Goku was attempting to remove his own clothes after placing Vegeta on the bed. Vegeta couldn’t help but chuckle at him, watching as he struggled to get his shirt off.

“What?” Goku asked, laughing a little at himself right along with him as he tossed his shirt aside, “My clothes are wet and they’re sticking to me!”

“And you’re throwing them on my floor,” Vegeta pointed out as he looked him over distractedly.

“Would you like to join them?” Goku taunted, kneeling onto the bed and leaning over him, threatening to toss him down there as well as he gathered the blankets underneath Vegeta in his arms with a playful smirk.

Vegeta was suddenly forced to stare into his handsome face as Kakarot came closer, challenging him, and he smized in reply and said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, blankets having come down with him, despite his undignified yelping and fruitless efforts to stop it from happening. Kakarot was chuckling, crawling on top of him, and smirking in a conceited manner. The man kissed him again, not allowing him to speak another peep of disapproval so long as he could manage to steal his breath away.

It was working, but Vegeta wouldn’t have complained even if he could have. That display of strength turned him on, and Kakarot was grinding into him again, going for the remainder of his clothing whenever he could manage to pull away, but all he’d managed so far was to unbutton his pants.

Goku hummed into his neck, saying in between sensual bites, “I’m so glad you _didn’t_ call me, Vegeta…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Vegeta snipped, gasping as Goku’s attentions trailed to the other side of his neck.

Vegeta felt down the damp skin of Kakarot’s back and enjoyed the feel of his hard body beneath his fingertips and between his legs, on top of him, crushing him. Kakarot was kissing back up his jawline now, heading for his mouth again.

He needed to take his clothes off, they were only in the way.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Goku told him, grabbing onto his jaw with one of his hands as he kissed him roughly. The way his hand moved lower, fitting around his neck with just the right amount of pressure, felt so good to Vegeta.

“You’ve done a good job of implanting yourself into my thoughts, too, asshole,” Vegeta quipped, raking his nails up his back and then dragging his hands back down along his strong arms.

“Mm, not good enough,” Goku whispered, “Not yet anyways…” and he grinded upwards again, bucking into Vegeta’s hips.

Vegeta moaned and sat up, forcing Goku to pull back, but the man never ceased kissing him, only now his attention was at the junction between his shoulder and his neck. Vegeta finally managed to pull away enough to get his shirt off, while Goku was busy removing his pants and boxers. When Vegeta looked back up, Goku was already hungrily going for his pants and briefs as well, sliding them both down his hips, until his erection bounced free, and then he took them clean off of his legs. Vegeta’s breath caught in his throat as he took a second to let everything catch up to him.

This all felt so new, and for the first time in a long time, Vegeta felt a little nervous. Not a scared type of nervous, but a good kind. He wasn’t drunk or even tipsy. He was sober, and he felt it. This wasn’t just some random guy. He wasn’t just trying to get laid for once, and he actually _wanted_ this to last.

“You have a nice cock,” Goku told him, blushing with honest eyes.

Vegeta’s face flushed at the compliment and he looked down again at Kakarot’s erection, the one he’s been trying not to eye heavily, the same one he’s been fantasizing about for far too long now, before he looked back up at him, and told him, “So do you,” and he wasn’t lying.

Goku smiled and came forward on his hands and knees. When he kissed Vegeta again, he did so softly this time, as he used one of his hands to reach down in between them and grasp Vegeta’s dick confidently. He pumped it in his hand, eliciting a moan from Vegeta that he was almost embarrassed by.

Kakarot took his time playing with him, jerking him off as they made out sensually, and after a minute or so, Goku pulled away to trail lower with his lips.

“Mmm,” he murmured into Vegeta’s skin, as he worked his way down his chest and his stomach. He admitted, trailing lower, still pumping him with his right hand, “I have to tell you… I have such a hard time sparring with you… You’re distractingly hot.”

Vegeta chuckled and told him, “You have no idea how many dirty thoughts I’ve had about you, especially while we were fighting…”

Goku looked up and grinned at him, but he didn’t reply other than with the sweeping motion of his tongue darting out while his hand guided Vegeta’s hard length into his warm mouth.

“Fuck,” Vegeta panted. He should have called him sooner and at the moment he couldn’t remember why he’d ever hesitated.

Goku had never looked so sexy to Vegeta as he does right now and Vegeta’s jaw hung open as he watched him slowly suck him off. The way his lashes batted, and his cheeks were tinted pink, it almost seemed like he was timid, but he was clearly willing, and he was _so good_ , even if it seemed as though he was fighting through his own shyness minute by minute. Vegeta couldn’t be sure that he had ever done this before, but he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t either _._

“Kakarot…” Vegeta whispered, running his hand through his dampened hair, removing his bangs from his face as he watched him bob up and down on his cock, his right hand moving with his mouth, twisting on the way up. Vegeta slowly raised his hips higher, throwing back his head as he moaned in praise. That _awake_ feeling was back, and it was overwhelming.

Goku pulled back after another minute and Vegeta watched as he licked his index and middle finger, before spreading Vegeta’s legs wider beneath him.

Vegeta told him, his breath hitching, “I’m not usually the one in this position.”

Goku smiled and said, “I’m not going to hurt you…”

Heat rose to Vegeta’s face again and he opened his mouth to argue, but Goku forced a finger inside of him just as he went back to sucking on his dick, causing Vegeta to cry out and ultimately give in. He bucked into Kakarot’s mouth as his finger slid in deeper. Goku hummed over him, watching him, and Vegeta’s hand fisted into his hair as he felt himself giving way to the pleasure over the initial uncomfortable pressure.

He shuddered and gasped as Goku added a second finger, and he panted and whined a little as he thought to himself, _‘Why does it feel so fucking good right now?’_ Has it been a while since he’s been laid? Has it been a while since he’s done it like _this_? Is it because he’s sober? Is it _Kakarot_? He didn’t know, but he felt like he might burst. Kakarot hasn’t even fucked him yet.

Goku was still humming over his cock as he deepthroated what he could manage, but it was clear that the man was feeling a little impatient with the way he pulled away suddenly.

He licked his hand, staring Vegeta down, who was locked onto his eyes and couldn’t look away, before he slicked the head of his leaking cock and drug Vegeta forward by his thighs. He pressed his legs open and placed himself at his entrance, as Vegeta’s breaths heightened, and Goku’s eyes flicked from what he was doing, to Vegeta’s face, and then back down to everything in between.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Vegeta…” Goku told him, pressing slowly into him.

Vegeta cried out, “Oh fuck!” when the head forced its way inside and he answered, panting, “And here I thought the universe was just using you to tease me…”

Goku smiled again, gasping, and he pressed deeper, pulling Vegeta further into his lap by his hips. He told him, groaning, “I wouldn’t do that.”

Vegeta moaned again, leaning all the way back to try to relax as much as he could as Goku pressed forward a little further.

“You feel amazing…” Goku told him, lust filled eyes gazing down at him.

Vegeta was holding back the urge to whimper- the pressure of Kakarot’s impressive length was nearly too much to bear- but the moment Kakarot pulled back and pressed his way inside a second time, Vegeta felt his whole-body wrack with pleasure and he cried out. The discomfort he’d had, physical or otherwise, began to disappear entirely.

One the third thrust, once Kakarot got his hardness buried deep inside of Vegeta, all of the tension went away. Vegeta couldn’t help himself, he reached forward and pulled Kakarot down into a crushing kiss, which Kakarot returned, just as he began to put his powerful hips to use.

Vegeta was convinced the man had two personalities. One was the sweet, sensitive man Vegeta met at the grocery store, the one who had taken him home from the bar and _didn’t_ try to take advantage of him, and the second was the confident, sexy man who was fucking him right now, the same person Vegeta had seen during their spars.

Kakarot quickly and successfully put any other lover he’s ever had before to shame and Vegeta could not stop kissing him or crying out with every irresistible thrust. Goku continued to rock his length into Vegeta with a passion Vegeta had never experienced before, and he only pulled away from their kiss to run his fingers over Vegeta’s lips as he angled deeper, while he told him how sexy he is and how incredible he feels.

It didn’t take long for Vegeta to realize that he was about to cum. Goku leaned forwards again, and grunted into his other ear, before licking along his jawline as he was grinding into his body. He pulled back, eyes watching Vegeta, who was also watching him, unable to look away. The next thing Vegeta knew, Kakarot was changing the position of his hips slightly while locking him down by a strong grip on his wrists. Vegeta’s legs had wound their way around his waist all on their own. The pleasure, the sight, the emotion, all of it was nearly unbearable.

“You’re gonna make me cum…” Goku told him, panting, “Vegeta…” and he released one of Vegeta’s wrists so he could reach down between them and pump his cock in beat with his thrusts.

Goku got his wish, and Vegeta shuddered beneath him, shouting out his name and locking up as he came, hard, shooting far enough to catch his own neck. Goku followed shortly afterwards, leaning forward again, and locking their lips together as he came inside of him, moaning into Vegeta’s mouth.

Goku kissed him breathless as he pulled out. Vegeta’s hands flew up to wrap around his neck as he unwrapped his shaking legs from around his waist. Goku was smiling into their kiss, but he moved his attentions down to Vegeta’s neck where he lapped up the small amount of cum that had landed there, before kissing him once more, lazily, and then rolling off of him, out of breath.

Their sex had been incredible, and Vegeta exhaled sharply, still catching his own breath, as he looked over at Goku now lying beside him on the floor. The man looked over at him, too, and was grinning like a maniac.

Vegeta was beside himself. He didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know what to do other than to appreciate the view and their afterglow. He didn’t want to ruin it by muddling it with words when he was certain he wouldn’t be able to find the right ones.

All he’d ever known were the wrong ones.

Goku sighed before he finally broke the silence. “I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are,” Vegeta spat with remarkably little to no venom.

“Chinese?” Goku offered, his face still flushed from exertion and his eyes filled with warmth Vegeta didn’t think he’d ever be used to seeing.

“Sure…” Vegeta agreed, but as he looked him over, he wondered where this was going. His mind was running a million miles a minute mulling over the same questions: They can’t just continue this, can they?

 _Will_ they?

_Are they…?_

Goku suddenly sat up and laughed a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He asked, “Mind if I use your dryer?”

Vegeta smirked, sitting up as well, “No, I was going to send you home soaking wet.”

Goku grinned, “Gee, thanks.”

Everything after that wasn’t as awkward as Vegeta had thought it might be and, in light of the fact that he _couldn’t_ kick Kakarot out, he admittingly didn’t _want_ to. The thought of trying to figure out where this was going was just as terrifying as the idea of _keeping_ it going, though, but the idea was something he was toying with very seriously.

He got up and wiped himself clean with a towel, then he threw on some briefs before going into the kitchen after he’d instructed Kakarot on where the dryer was. He needed to separate himself from him for at least a minute.

Goku completed the task quickly, and he was now also clad in nothing but his underwear, as he busied himself by ordering some Chinese for delivery- whatever he wanted and then some because Vegeta gave him nothing to work with when hollered down the hall to ask him what he wanted.

When Vegeta finally came back into his room with a couple of beers, necessary for the mini heart attack he was having at the fact that the other man was _still_ in his house and _would be_ for at least a little while longer, he quickly learned that Goku had snooped around a bit and found a family album Bulma had made and given him which he normally kept hidden under his bed, but he’d gotten out and set on his dresser as he’d been looking at it the night before.

Vegeta yelled at him to drop it, but Goku was already gushing, looking through all the photos as he swiped a beer from one of Vegeta’s hands. Refusing to stop, he urged Vegeta to come and sit beside him while he looked through it.

Confused and rattled, Vegeta obliged. Goku really was harmless, and his commentary over the pictures was comical enough, but Vegeta’s anxiety over the whole matter couldn’t be helped. Luckily for him Goku didn’t ask many questions about things and as revenge Vegeta noted that he hadn’t snooped around his room when he’d been there before, but he promised him that he would the next time he got the chance. Then he blushed at the fact that he’d mentioned his hopes of there being a next time, and he turned to hide his face entirely when Goku said that he didn’t mind that idea one bit.

Once the Chinese food got there, they ate quietly in the dining room, too hungry for words in between bites. Once they were finished, Goku told him that he should probably get back to the gym as soon as his clothes were dry. He said he hadn’t locked up when he’d left. Vegeta nodded distractedly and let Goku get dressed in his room while he sat out in the living room, picking up a book to distract him from his unfinished thoughts.

Once Goku came back out, he grabbed his jacket off the chair and went over to Vegeta, kissing him goodbye, and as he left, he told him goodnight and that he promised he’d be in touch with him.

Vegeta’s head swam. He tried to read but couldn’t, and so he put on a movie, but he felt as though he’d watched the whole thing in a fog. After it had ended, he still felt unfocused and strange, so he went to bed, with nothing but pleasant feelings encompassing him for the first time in a long time. Well, mostly pleasant. He sensed that he was also mostly in shock.

When he woke up the next morning, the feelings of the night before were still cradling him, and the memories replayed back to him swiftly, tenderly, lingering with him in a way he didn’t expect for the morning after. Instead of feeling like he’d made a huge mistake, he could only think about how unexpectedly _lucky_ he’d been the night before. He stood up out of bed, sore and out of it, but in the most wonderful way.

He relieved himself, threw on some pants, and then headed into the kitchen still feeling weird. He’d never let anyone come into his home to have their way with him like that before, and he was suspicious that he’d left evidence of their rendezvous out in the open for Trunks to go all detective on him and ask him about. When was Trunks going to be home, anyways?

When he got to the living room, he saw that Trunks was already there. He was playing video games on the couch. Vegeta glanced around, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in his home. He tried to be avoided by his son’s gaze as he headed to the kitchen, still looking for any clues that he might need to hide.

“You slept in,” his son called, catching a glimpse of him.

 _‘Fuck,’_ Vegeta mentally cursed. He didn’t even know what time it was.

“You never sleep in,” Trunks was saying.

“Never say never,” Vegeta replied, but he left it at that as he turned the coffee machine on. He saw two forks and two plates in the sink and rushed to put them in the dishwasher.

Trunks didn’t reply to him, he was much too engrossed in his game to have an actual conversation.

Vegeta made himself some coffee as he stared at the clock. It’s already 10:30 am. The hotel must have kicked the kids out early this morning.

Vegeta honestly didn’t know how long Kakarot had stayed over. He didn’t know what time he’d gone to bed. He couldn’t believe he’d slept in, but he clearly needed the rest. He couldn’t believe he’d left those dishes out, but he hoped Trunks didn’t notice. He hummed at how ridiculous he knew he was being, and then headed back to his room to check his phone for the news. When he picked it up, he had a text:

 **Kakarot:** Wanna spar?

It was sent 10 minutes ago. Vegeta smirked.

 **Vegeta:** You’re going down

The man sent a bunch of obscene emojis as a reply. Vegeta couldn’t help but chuckle as excitement swelled within him. He didn’t know what Goku meant by any of the faces and symbols, but he didn’t care. Vegeta told him he’d meet him in an hour. That was enough time for him to shower, grab a small bite to eat, pack a change of clothes, and head there.

On his way out the door Trunks asked him where he was going, and when he said he was going to the gym, Trunks didn’t seem to sense anything off about it. Still, he felt strange about it, especially considering the fact that Trunks definitely wouldn’t approve of who he was meeting.

Fuck it.

Driving there felt like it took too long as Vegeta wondered what he was supposed to expect in meeting the man again so soon, but it didn’t take long into his spar with Kakarot to realize that the man wasn’t lying when he’d said that sparring with him had been hard. He’s _definitely_ been hiding a hard on for him, and apparently, he’s tired of hiding it.

What started out as a harmless training session turned into frantic romping in the private locker rooms less than an hour later. Goku’s right hand clamped over Vegeta’s mouth tight to keep him quiet, while his left hand held onto his waist.

He whispered into his ear that he didn’t want to get caught. “Technically… This isn’t allowed,” he panted. “But I just… Can’t help it…”

Vegeta’s voice might have been stifled, but Goku’s every needy, dirty little thought was spilling quietly from his own lips and straight into Vegeta’s ear as he thrust inside of him, over and over, until they both came, completely spent.

Goku smiled down at him and kissed Vegeta through their afterglow, running his hands through his hair as he tried to help clean him off under the spray of the water. Vegeta was absolutely beside himself with an elated high he couldn’t shake as Kakarot refused to stop kissing his face, his neck, his shoulder, and anywhere else he could get his lips.

“Lunch?” Goku finally offered.

“Starving,” Vegeta agreed.

By the time Vegeta got home from his afternoon with Goku, he was practically singing. Which really meant that he wasn’t scowling for once.

Trunks, who was still sitting on the couch playing video games, turned to watch him and he noticed immediately that his father was in a good mood. He gave him an odd look and said, “You went to the gym, huh?”

Vegeta smirked and he moved to head to his bedroom, but stopped short and said, “I can take you out to dinner tonight if you want?”

Pausing the game, Trunks turned to him, shocked. He wondered, “Seriously?”

“I’m not going to offer twice.”

“Do I get to pick the place?” Trunks said, pushing his luck.

Vegeta nodded.

“Hell yeah, you’re on!” Trunks grinned and he watched curiously as his father disappeared, but ultimately shrugged and didn’t asked any questions.


	14. 14

14

When Monday rolled around Vegeta was beside himself. He’d just spent the latter part of his weekend consummating something he’d spent the last six months more or less agonizing over, and he actually felt good about it. Today, he noticed, he didn’t feel nearly as stressed as he has been recently.

It had been such a rush, to be with Kakarot so intimately. Kakarot was every bit the charming man when he’d parted ways with him Sunday afternoon as he had been the moment that he’d met him at the grocery store. The man, if nothing else, was consistent.

Vegeta questioned his good luck in gaining the man’s attention in the first place, but he also wondered how long it would last. He knew, deep down, that it depended solely on himself, and he hadn’t decided where he was willing to allow this alteration in their relationship to take them just yet. The only thing he knew for certain was that he planned on keeping this a secret. He wondered if Kakarot felt the same way. They hadn’t talked about it. They hadn’t talked about anything that had to do with them or where their new relationship was going. They hadn’t even discussed the term “relationship” as it now _could potentially_ apply to them.

Vegeta decided not to dwell on it just this once. Just for a little while.

So, he worked all week long and didn’t stress when Kakarot didn’t call him. He went to the gym and didn’t even glance at any of the other men in the room. He went to the grocery store and didn’t think twice about any of the other shoppers around him. He smirked at Trunks when the young man threw a sarcastic quip his way, instead of smarting off right back, and when Friday rolled around, he took Bra out to the city to show her some sites, he even enjoyed his time with her.

When they got back to Capsule Corp., he managed to have a pleasant conversation with Bulma, in which he teased her about her new man, pressing her to come clean about who he is.

When she tells him, he scoffs in mockery and rolls his eyes, “Yamcha? The retired baseball player? The one that hangs out with that flying cat?”

“Yes!” Bulma exclaims, “He’s a sweet guy. And the cat’s name is Puar, by the way.”

“Pshh,” Vegeta chuckles, “I bet he tells you a lot of _really interesting_ stories about way back when he was famous.”

Bulma crosses her arms and tells him, “ _You_ know who he is.”

“Because he hangs out with a _blue flying cat_.”

Bulma smirks, “He’s a fighter, too, you know.”

Vegeta raises a brow and remarks, “Please. I’d be happy to test that claim any day.”

“Vegeta! No!”

“That’s what I thought. Although,” He chuckles, “It’s obvious that you clearly have a type.”

Bulma laughs, “Except _he’s_ nice,” she teases, “if not a bit shy. And he’s family oriented, even though he doesn’t have any kids of his own. Maybe if we’d met in our younger years it wouldn’t have worked out, but he’s the more sensitive type, and at this point in my life, I can appreciate that.”

“Hn,” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m excited about him, Vegeta, so play nice when you meet him, okay?”

He chides, “When will that be, exactly?”

“I haven’t decided,” she declares, “Maybe when I’m ready for him to finally meet Bra.”

“No rush,” Vegeta drawled.

It was Bulma’s turn to roll her eyes, “Anyways, I should probably get to bed and I’m sure you’re ready to go. Thank you, again, for—”

“Don’t,” Vegeta told her, standing up and heading to the door, “Your ‘thanks’ aren’t necessary.”

Bulma smiles at his back as he walks away, before adding, “I have another couple of meetings planned that I want you, Gohan, and Robert to get together for coming up in the next few weeks. I’ll let you know the days I need you.”

Vegeta merely shrugged at first, but then he stopped and considered the bigger picture at hand. The one he’d nearly forgotten about with Kakarot’s deeper immersion into his life. The one that brought him to the bar that night in the first place.

What _was_ Kakarot doing at that bar?

A more important question: How much longer is he going to keep working for his ex-wife?

Looking over his shoulder, he asked her thoughtfully, “Why do you need me there, Bulma?”

“… What do you mean?”

“I’m not a scientist,” he answered shortly.

“Maybe not, but Gohan says you’ve been very helpful.”

“No,” Vegeta shook his head, “Gohan is a capable young man. He may enjoy the opportunity to bounce ideas off of someone else, but he works just fine on his own. I’d even say that he doesn’t need _Robert_ there.”

“Well, I do,” Bulma explained, putting her hands on her hips, “Gohan is too busy to help me all by himself! And I can’t rely on Robert! I need you there to keep them on task and, you know, intimidate them like you like to do.”

“Really? Intimidate them?” Vegeta asked, turning around to face her in earnest. He was doubtful of her words for the first time in a long time. He suddenly felt as though he was thinking clearer, as though the fog of funk that he’s been in has finally been lifted, and now that he’s really thinking about it, he found himself downright suspicious of her motives of bringing him onto that project in the first place. He even began to question why she hired him at all. He told her, “Gohan is not the type of man that needs babysitting and Mr. Sharp is much too engrossed in arbitrary circumstances for my tastes.”

Bulma frowned.

“You knew that already, didn’t you?” Vegeta assumed, “You don’t let even the most menial details about your more private employees pass you by without consideration. So, Robert must have something to offer you that you haven’t mentioned.”

She raised her head haughtily but didn’t reply.

Vegeta glared and continued, “Gohan works there far more often than I do, by himself or otherwise, and I believe that Mr. Sharp’s completely tactless personality is probably why I’ve only just met him, isn’t it? You didn’t want me to run him off.”

She chuckled, placating him, “I am aware that he’s nosy, sure, but he’s nothing you can’t handle. I mean, come on! If anything, meeting you will only put him in his place.”

“You’re being evasive with me. I can’t stand it when you do that.”

“It’s **my** business, Vegeta,” she retorted, “I’ll run it how I want.”

Vegeta growled, with half a mind to go from annoyed to pissed, and he said, “It’s _your_ business, Bulma, and _you’re_ perfectly capable of doing such a thing yourself. It’s obvious that you have no intention to, though, so tell me the truth, why do you need me there?”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest as she retorted, “I told you—”

“You said I was there because you weren’t sure you could trust them. I believed you at first, but now I’m not so sure that’s really what’s going on.”

“I…” she hesitated, “I did say that didn’t I…?”

Vegeta wondered at her change of mood. Has it really been so long since they’ve been together that he was losing his touch on predicting her? Or that he’s no longer able to keep up with her more subtle nuances. He glared, “Answer the question.”

She sighed, “Okay, fine! You got me. That’s not exactly why I wanted you around… I just… I just wanted you around, Vegeta, and I was trying to get you out of your house for a change.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t mean to give you a false sense of purpose- and you definitely serve a purpose!” She pressed, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you started questioning it, though, and I don’t want to lie to you. Gohan is innocent enough. He works for his love of science and nothing more, but I don’t think Robert’s trying to steal my ideas, either. If he does, I’ll sue him. You know how it works. But I do want you there. I think your presence is useful in a lot of ways, whether you agree or not, but… To be honest, you’ve just been so… so lost recently and I was just trying to help get you out of your own head for a little while. It has helped, hasn’t it?”

Vegeta was outraged. At her confession, he turned back to the door sharply and stated vehemently, without thinking, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you that I’ve been looking for another job.”

“Why?!” she cried.

“Because _you don’t need me here_ , Bulma,” Vegeta answered, the reality of the truth of that statement hitting him just as those words left his lips. He added, scorned, “This has just been a formality on your part, and it’s been a humility on mine.”

“That’s not true! Why is everything a pride thing with you, Vegeta?!”

“It doesn’t matter to you what I do, does it? You couldn’t have expected this to last forever. Besides, you have people lining up for days for the opportunity to work for you. And you have access to _hired muscle_ if that’s all you really want. Use someone else in your schemes to ‘intimidate’ those men into staying on task.”

“Vegeta! You’ve got the wrong idea about what I said! And for the love of humanity I didn’t just hire you as some sort of charity case! You are the best at what you do and you and I both know it!”

Vegeta chuckled, “Oh, I know. You were getting a bargain with me as far as you’re concerned.”

“Don’t be so pigheaded!” she puffed, “But yes, it’s true. I do feel that way.”

Vegeta sneered.

“I hired you for a lot of reasons! _Primarily_ for your work ethic. You’ve worked for me before, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting when I brought you on. You don’t have _office_ ethics, but you don’t work in the office and I don’t care about that! We talked about this!”

“We did, and now this conversation is over.”

“Don’t you think I see your numbers?! Don’t you think I pay attention to how hard you’ve been working?! You put everyone else in my company to shame! Even the brownnosers! I’m _happy_ to have you employed at Capsule Corp.! So is my father! Even from a distance you’ve made our company so much more efficient and—”

“And I’ve made you a lot of money,” Vegeta tensed, “I’m aware.”

“Damn it, I should have seen this coming! I should have known that you’d react this way! I honestly thought, for some fucking reason, that you’d stay, just for the convenience of it all! Isn’t it worth it?! To work where your daughter is?! Where your family is?! To not have to worry about silencing your opinions or playing by the standard office rules I _know_ you hate?! Trunks is going to stay here when he comes back from college in the winter, you know!”

Vegeta didn’t know that, and he clenched his jaw as he realized that Trunks was serious about leaving and never coming back after all.

She continued, unaware, “I thought this was the best thing for all of us! Are you just going to go back to completely ignoring us once you’ve found something else?! You won’t be happy there, Vegeta!”

Desperate to save face with her and end this conversation, he told her a little white lie, “It’s too late. I’ve already accepted a position elsewhere.”

“You can’t be serious!” she bellowed, “Is that why you were in such a good mood, today? I should have _known_ something was up with you! When were you going to tell me?!”

Vegeta felt his muscles contract as he considered the implication of her words, and he grit his teeth as he considered his next ones, before he decided to go along with his lie. He couldn’t back down, now. He told her, “I’ll extend you the courtesy you’ve given me of employing me so hastily and generously and give you a 30 days’ notice of my impending leave, starting Monday.”

“Vegeta! Please don’t do this! At least give me the opportunity to counter-offer—”

He looked over his shoulder at her again and said, “Don’t waste your breath. Nothing could tempt me into staying any longer. You’ve done enough,” and with that, he left.

On his way home he grumbled to himself as he thought about their conversation. He thought about everything that has led up to this moment. Everything that he’d left unsaid because he simply couldn’t bring himself to explain to her that he didn’t want to look like a loser, not even to another loser like Yamcha. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’s not proud of the way he’s handled things with their kids and that it was his fault that Trunks doesn’t care about him. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’s sorry for what he did, and all that he doesn’t do. He didn’t know how to change any of it, so what good would verbalizing it do for either of them?

He didn’t regret quitting; he’s been wanting to do it for a while. He never wanted to take the job in the first place, but now that it’s come down to it, he couldn’t keep working for her, not when, as he’d so eloquently expressed, she didn’t need him. She truly _doesn’t_ need him, and he hated standing by as the unnecessary extra on the scene. He’d rather be absent entirely than a useless bystander. He couldn’t believe that he’d allowed himself to be outsmarted and used by her, again, her good intentions aside.

She’d tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his phone to silent and just kept on driving. They were through talking. They were through, _period_ , and he didn’t want to be bothered with whatever texts she was sure to send him, either.

He was convinced that quitting is the right choice. Being unemployed is nothing new to him, and it was far from what was bothering him. She’d paid his rent through June, and he’d been making such good pay for the last five months as it was, that he was sitting on a good sum of money. He was certain he could handle paying his bills until something else came along, but again, there were more important things on his mind than bills at the moment.

When he got home, he walked into his house anxiously, but luckily, Trunks was out. When wasn’t he on a Friday night? He didn’t know where he’d gone, but he was okay with it. He didn’t want him here to sense his discontent, like he always does. He didn’t need to add another argument to his list of problems.

He headed to his kitchen to make himself something to drink, which he did with more enthusiasm than he normally does. Disgruntled about it or not, quitting your job is a sobering event, and accepting the fact that he was being, and would be, replaced, on all fronts, required a little something with a kick.

That was the most sobering part of it all, of course. His complete replacement. He wouldn’t be needed anymore, by any of them, even Bra would probably find more comfort and warmth in this new father-figure, and Vegeta didn’t know why the thought bothered him so much when he was the one who’d left in the first place, but it did.

When had he allowed himself to become this soft? When had he started caring about whether or not someone _needed_ him? Much less _wanted_ him.

He took a sip of his stiffly poured drink and shuddered as the alcohol burned down his throat. He walked from the kitchen into his living room and took a good look around his apartment. It was bare, and of course he knew this, but it _felt_ empty. No sign of any one even _living_ here seemed to exist. Everything was in perfect condition, and the unadorned, though nice furnishings, sat more like symbols of achievements than options for relaxation.

As he continued to look around, he noted that the blank walls were suddenly too blank, and that the clean floors were suddenly too clean. The dusted bookshelves cried out to him, the words of wisdom in their books having been consumed, but never digested. Everywhere he looked, it was eerie how nothing was out of place, and frightening how hollow that pompous imagery of false perfection seemed to him.

He searched and searched for something of meaning around him. Something tangible. Something real. Something with merit. He wasn’t a man who cared for possessions and yet what little he did have was _all_ that he had, and it brought him no comfort. He wasn’t even really a man who cared much for riches, and that certainly showed, despite his fancy wardrobe and his nice car. He knew that he couldn’t take those kinds of things with him when he dies, and he’d never cared for impressing anyone with how much _stuff_ he has, certainly not when knowing, at the end of the day, he has to strip down to nothing in order to face himself. Or even _debase_ himself on his whims. But he suddenly felt stifled and suffocated in his barren apartment, and it certainly had nothing to do with it being too crowded. If anything, there was too much space surrounding him. Too much emptiness. Not enough noise. Not enough life.

Vegeta sat down on the couch and leaned back into the cushion as he continued to contemplate his everything, or lack thereof, when he felt something behind one of the pillows. He sat back up to set his drink down, before turning so he could lift the cushion to find what was hiding behind it. It was Trunks’ gaming controller, the one that he usually leaves sitting on the coffee table, even when Vegeta yells at him to put it away. Vegeta eyed it sadly and set it down on the coffee table. Even that one bit of proof that some sort of life is in this house would be gone soon, wouldn’t it? Gone with his son when he heads off to start his own life.

Hopefully, it will be nothing like his.

He was two seconds away from growing angry by default and he was contemplating heading out to the fight club when a knock came at his door. He stood up and headed over to answer it, wholly undevoted to whomever dared to bother him. He was half expecting it to be Bulma. She’s done that before, years ago, when he’d first moved out and he was ignoring her calls. He opened it, ready to argue, but his eyes widened, and he was muted in surprise as he was not expecting who he saw instead.

“Hey, Vegeta,” Goku smiled down at him, “I’m glad you’re home. I called, but you didn’t answer.”

Vegeta just stared at the man, taking in his appearance as he continued talking.

He was saying, “I was leaving the gym when I found out that Trunks is staying the night at my place, and I thought that… Well, I guess I thought that you wouldn’t mind some company.”

After a moment, Vegeta’s utter shock subsided, and in light of Goku’s beaming smile, and such convenient circumstances, he welcomed him in without the use of words. Instead, he grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. Kakarot reciprocated it heatedly.

Vegeta needed him in this moment more than he had last Saturday, which was a slightly troubling conundrum he didn’t understand, but he’d take advantage of it while he could.

 _Is_ he taking advantage of him? Probably, in the long run, yes.

He needed him as a distraction, though. He needed his kind nature and his unbothered, untampered presence. He needed his blissful ignorance of all the things related to the idiocies of Vegeta’s life. He needed his inviting, open, honest, and yet enigmatic eyes baring down into the windows of his own woefully miserable soul, and he hoped, beyond hope, that Kakarot wouldn’t notice the distress deep within him. He dreamed, beyond a mortal scope, that Kakarot wouldn’t see the ruin within him. Not yet anyways. At least, not tonight.

He kissed him until their lips began to swell, and he thought they might even bruise, and then he kissed him some more. Goku seemed to be on the same wavelength, or maybe parallel to him, perhaps even on the opposite spectrum, but somehow still fully coinciding with his own needs, and he ravaged his mouth with an unrivaled ferocity. Kakarot might not need him, but he wanted him, and that was enough for now.

They didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Vegeta shoved the coffee table out of the way and then dropped to his knees in front of Kakarot as the man undid his pants and pulled out his cock. He made quick work of the man’s length, not withholding anything as he took him into his mouth.

As soon as he had finished slicking Goku’s cock from deepthroating him with abandon, Goku hoisted him up, and helped him undo his pants, only to pull them down just enough to reveal his hard and leaking member along with his perfect ass. Turning him around so that Vegeta could grab onto the back of the couch, Goku licked two fingers and pressed inside of him, first one, then adding the second one shortly after in impatience.

“Kakarot,” Vegeta choked out, looking over his shoulder, attempting to convey his need with a look when he couldn’t use words.

Goku understood.

Thoughtless, senseless, and sensory-driven sex ensued. Their cries mimicked their movements, echoing throughout the home. Their few, choice words were expressed without consideration, coming from a place of genuine fervor. Goku’s hands felt down Vegeta’s strong back as he thrust inside of him, then down to his ass, squeezing and kneading, before wrapping his arms around him, grazing over lean muscle in sensitive places as he kissed his neck, just beneath his ear.

Vegeta bucked into Kakarot, uncaring. He reached for the man’s hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss and to hold. Once their fingers interlaced, Kakarot squeezed, holding tight, never breaking his rhythm.

Each movement of their hips brought them closer to release. Vegeta needed this. He needed him so badly. His sweet voice, his soft lips, his strong arms wrapped around him. He was so lost in the moment by the time he came that he didn’t think he’d be able to catch his breath ever again.

When Goku pulled away, he immediately ripped his own shirt off and used it to wipe down the cum that Vegeta had shot out on the back of the couch, and he laughed and said, “That might be a difficult stain to explain, huh?”

Vegeta laughed as Kakarot turned his face to kiss him. One kiss turned to two, then to three, and before Vegeta knew it, he was facing Kakarot, with his pants entirely off and his back pressed into the couch cushions, and they were fucking all over again. 

Vegeta wasn’t sure how many times they had sex in between having two or three drinks and teasing one another about nothing and everything, both men evading, or simply ignoring, any sort of heavy topic. At about 2 o’clock in the morning, they finally showered and then laid down together in Vegeta’s bed. Vegeta told Kakarot that he couldn’t stay the night, even as he laid on top of his chest, and Goku yawned and told him that he was just about to leave, even as he was rubbing Vegeta’s back with one hand and his tired eyes with the other. 

When Vegeta woke up, Kakarot was sleeping next to him in his bed, snoring lightly.

At first, he was alarmed, and he sat up and stared the other man down. Then, as he looked him over, he knew that he couldn’t be mad about it. Actually, he was hard enough to start the next round.

Fuck being stubborn for once. He leaned down and began kissing the man’s chest to rouse him. He ran his hand down his stomach, removing the covers as he reached further to find that Kakarot’s cock was, likewise, hard, and ready, although rudely enclosed in his underwear.

Goku stirred as Vegeta’s hand grasped his dick, and he moaned when Vegeta tugged on it. Vegeta crawled on top of him and began kissing up the side of his neck as he continued to work him through the cloth.

“Good morning,” Goku smiled at him, reaching out to put his hands on Vegeta’s trim waist.

“Shh,” Vegeta told him, shivering a little at his touch.

Goku hummed in approval and tried to keep his voice low.

Trunks could be heard walking around. Vegeta had no idea what time it was, but he honestly didn’t care. He shimmied down to where he could release Goku’s member from his boxers, just to capture Kakarot’s cock in his mouth, and he worked him up until the noises escaping Goku’s lips as he hummed over his dick grew to a dangerously loud volume.

“Be quiet…” Vegeta whispered as he pulled away, smirking at him. Goku nodded earnestly and licked his lips as Vegeta crawled up further and he helped place himself at Vegeta’s entrance. 

Being quiet took some effort on both of their parts, but it was well worth it, and Vegeta watched, enamored, as Goku’s mouth fell open in a silent cry while he rode him with slow, deliberate movements.

“Damn,” Goku whispered, thumbing his nipples, and tilting his hips upwards to meet his movements.

“Shh!” Vegeta murmured, catching his lips with his, and bringing the lower one into his mouth to nibble down on it.

It didn’t take long for either man to get off and when Vegeta pulled away, he stepped off of the bed and brought Goku with him, dragging him into his bathroom. He turned on his shower and then whispered, “Since you’ve decided to spend the night, you’re now stuck here, confined to this room, until I can convince Trunks to leave.”

Goku grinned.

Vegeta shook his head at the man’s apparent calm and amusement. “We both need another shower, anyways, and then, when I go out there to talk to him, You. Stay. Here.” He told him, poking his chest with each word to punctuate his command. Suddenly he grew alarmed and asked, still whispering, “Where did you park?! What if he saw your—”

Goku stifled his worries with another kiss and murmured, “Relax, Vegeta…” and he continued to kiss him in spite of Vegeta’s slackly attempted protests.

“Where-mm- are-mm- Kakarot!” he gasped, “Mm- Where are your clothes!”

“In your bedroom,” Goku purred into his neck, licking upwards before he added, “On the floor…”

“Shh!” Vegeta chuckled in spite of everything, exposing his throat to him as he declared quietly, “You’re being entirely too loud!”

“Nahh,” Goku muttered, smiling down at him, “But I bet I can make _you_ mphf mahshushmor—” he tried to talk even though Vegeta had slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him.

Vegeta smirked as he reached out with his free hand and felt the water in the shower. It was nice and hot. Just like Kakarot. He stifled his shout when Kakarot pushed him inside and shut the shower door behind them, pinning him up against cool tiles.

Being quiet was _not_ easy.

Bulma had reached out in an attempt to speak to Vegeta after giving it a week. She merely texted him the next Sunday to let him know that she wanted him over on this coming Wednesday for his usual meeting with Gohan and Gohan only. So, on Wednesday, Vegeta headed over to Capsule Corp.

Vegeta tried to be present, he really did, but he wasn’t as interested in their project as Gohan was, and he felt as though he’d already mentally checked out of Capsule Corp. since he’d told Bulma about his “new job” and so he tried to look busy, but he knew he was failing.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. Goku, who had grown quite fond of texting this past week, wouldn’t stop blowing up his phone. It was most distracting.

Vegeta was confused as to whether or not he and Kakarot were actually dating, and although Kakarot had begun texting him often, they haven’t seen each other again since the Saturday before last, when Vegeta had to convince Trunks to get out of the house for a little while so Kakarot could leave unnoticed. Kakarot made breakfast for them in _his_ kitchen that morning. Vegeta huffed to himself as he remembered how Kakarot had simply refused to leave without eating something first.

Upon another vibration of his phone going off, Vegeta rolled his eyes but answered the man promptly, stifling a small smirk on his lips to the best of his abilities.

Gohan looked up at him, smiling, and noted, “Someone won’t leave you alone.”

Vegeta said, feigning annoyance, “This _particular_ someone is driving me crazy.”

Gohan’s intelligent eyes watched him for a second longer than usual and he told Vegeta sincerely, “That’s great.”

Vegeta scoffed, “You think my being harassed is a good thing?”

Gohan smiled, “You seem happy.”

Vegeta deflected, shocked by his observation, “Get back to work.”

Gohan chuckled, “Whatever you say, Vegeta.”

Vegeta smirked when he looked away, but the smirk fell from his lips when he considered how Gohan might react to knowing that he was fucking his father. This is dangerous and he knew it, but he just doesn’t want it to end. He actually, really, _genuinely_ doesn’t want it to end.

Vegeta felt weird about that. Weird because he and Kakarot hardly talk, and when they do it’s never about anything serious, like right now for instance. Here they are arguing about food of all things. Vegeta felt weird because they haven’t settled what’s actually going on between them and he couldn’t honestly say that he knew the answer to that question. He felt weird because it’s been nice, but it isn’t _satisfactory_. It isn’t… enough.

Vegeta stared at the newest text Kakarot had sent him, and he answered smartly as he mulled over two things that he feared simultaneously; One, that whatever this is between them won’t last much longer and that their “new relationship” would fizzle off into nothing but a stale and uncomfortable memory, and Two, on the opposite side of that scale, that Kakarot would start inviting him deeper into his everyday life, or that he’d try to get deeper into Vegeta’s, which was a troubling thought at best.

If the first, then all of this would have been for nothing, and he and Kakarot would wind up parting ways on strange and unsettled terms, making any and all future encounters awkward and frustrating, until or unless they managed to completely avoid one another. This is what Vegeta figures will happen if Kakarot finally comes out with it and says that he isn’t serious about him. He still isn’t sure that he _is_ , but he’s also unsure if that’s what he wants to hear from him, after all. Which leads him to the second problem.

If it _is_ the second problem, then Kakarot will eventually start inviting himself into Vegeta’s everyday life, and Vegeta wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. Aside from the blaringly obvious fact that merging their lives would be dangerous for the sake of their family’s relationships should theirs go ill, he wasn’t sure that he wanted Kakarot to get to know him any better. He wasn’t sure that Kakarot would like what he sees once he finally gets to know Vegeta, if he ever lets him in, that is.

In fact, this entire week, and honestly their entire acquaintanceship thus far, has been nothing but Vegeta making continuous argument out of everyday subjects with the man just so he _wouldn’t_ start feeling too comfortable around him, but Kakarot hasn’t seemed bothered by that fact. Were all of their more intimate rendezvous almost like makeup sex from stupid arguments that held no merit in either of their lives to begin with? Vegeta supposed he kind of liked it that way, at least it kept the man at bay. Goku didn’t seem to mind it either.

What the hell is wrong with that man that he isn’t completely turned off by him?

Still, the man’s attention was nice, and his affection is even better, and Vegeta wasn’t ready to let him go, even though he knew they shouldn’t be doing this, and even though there’s still so much uncertainty between them. Vegeta was holding on to him, but he was holding on loosely, and he determined that he wasn’t going to get too attached, and he tried his best not to give Kakarot any reason to get attached to him. (Except for the sex. The sex was amazing.) So, he intended to keep his private life as private as ever, keeping Goku from his family, and his family from Goku. It’s going to get increasingly difficult to do, though, isn’t it? Especially since they have to sneak around two teenage boys just to get _their_ kicks.

His phone went off again. Gohan glanced up at the sound, grinning. Vegeta glared at him. Gohan only laughed. Just like Kakarot.

Fucking Kakarot. _Fucking… Kakarot…_

… Damn.


	15. 15

15

A little more than a week later, it was Saturday again, and Trunks’ graduation was coming up fast. He would be through with school by the end of next week, and his ceremony was going to be held on the Friday after that. It was all he talked about.

Goten stood with him in the living room of Vegeta’s apartment as they played video games with way too much enthusiasm, and he groaned about how much he was going to miss his friend when he went off to college. Trunks paused the game for a moment to quietly, but fiercely, promise his friend that he’d still be around and to stop worrying so much. He’d picked a college that was close to the city, after all, and he planned on coming back in to visit pretty often, or so he says. Goten was clearly disbelieving and disappointed.

Vegeta was sentimental to Goten’s thought process, but he wasn’t concentrating on them. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket as he received another text from Kakarot and he picked it up, hiding it behind his computer as he read the message.

 **Kakarot:** I thought about it and I don’t think it is a thing Vegeta

Vegeta smirked at his phone.

 **Vegeta:** You thought about it? For what, two seconds?

He glanced back up at the sound of the boys whooping over finishing their campaign. Within moments they were on to the next. He was grateful they weren’t paying any attention to him because he felt like he had a giant sign on his forehead that read, “I’m sleeping with Kakarot!”

As far as Vegeta could tell, though, Trunks was completely unaware of anything outside of his own little world and Goten was surely too oblivious to notice anything out of the ordinary. His son was positively giddy over being nearly through with high school and he’s been little to no trouble at all as of late. Goten is hardly any trouble at all to begin with.

Whatever mischief Trunks _might_ be planning was last on Vegeta’s list of things to worry about. Besides, with Goten currently over at his apartment again today, Vegeta presumed they wouldn’t get into too much trouble. Not after last time.

Vegeta tried to go back to focusing on filling out applications, but all he could think about was everything else. He and Bulma had gotten into another fight about him leaving the company last Monday, but it ended in a stalemate. Vegeta wouldn’t budge, and there was nothing she could do about it. He just hoped she wouldn’t mention anything to Trunks.

He’d picked Bra up again to take her out earlier in the week as well, but that hadn’t gone as smoothly as he might have liked, especially when his little girl mentioned that she’d gotten a gift from “Mommy’s new friend, Yamcha”. Vegeta was irritated by that information, and he asked her if she’d met him. Thankfully, she said no, because Vegeta would have been pissed if Bulma had lied to him about that. It put a foul taste in his mouth, regardless, and he bought her whatever she wanted out of spite towards the other man, knowing full and well that it would mean nothing to anyone but himself.

His phone went off again.

 **Kakarot:** You’re just gonna have to prove it 😉

 **Vegeta:** Is that a challenge?

 **Kakarot:** Yep 😊

 **Vegeta:** I accept.

Vegeta smirked.

The timing of these newly developing correspondences with Kakarot were a perfect distraction. Vegeta was nearly entirely preoccupied with Kakarot, whether he wanted to be or not. Still trying to figure the other man out while also attempting to find another job was enough to manage. Whatever was going on in Bulma’s and Bra’s world, or Trunks’ for that matter, was put on the back burner for now. Vegeta was much too busy trying to remain inconspicuous in his desperate attempt to keep the situation with Kakarot and his job on the downlow.

He glanced up at the boys for a moment, before putting his phone back down and struggling, once again, to fill out his seventh application of the day. His phone buzzed.

 **Kakarot:** I hope you’re up to it Vegeta

 **Vegeta:** Any time, Kakarot.

Vegeta stifled a chuckle to himself.

He and Kakarot were definitely _something_. Well, they were definitely still fucking, if two nights ago is any indication, but they hadn’t moved on from that and into the more subtle details of legitimate familiarity, and while it was every bit as confusing now as it has been since he met Goku, this camaraderie between them almost felt normal. 

Goku had invited Vegeta over to the gym to spar with him on Thursday evening, which was a random time for a spar, but Vegeta would take it. He went to him, looking forward to the challenge, and as fun as that had been, the sex in the showers afterwards was even better. That only led to them both being absolutely famished, so they went out to eat for the first time since Goku had taken Vegeta to show him the stars by the fountains. That seemed like forever ago by now.

Going out to eat with him again had been nice. Vegeta has pretty much gotten used to his bad table manners. Kakarot was so easygoing and he made the evening seem casual, up until kissing him goodnight. Vegeta looked forward to his kisses now, and every time they parted ways Vegeta wondered what was becoming of them.

 **Kakarot:** When can I see you again?

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

 **Vegeta:** You tell me.

 **Kakarot:** Are the boys there?

Vegeta glanced up, licking his lips in anticipation as he typed.

 **Vegeta:** Yes.

 **Kakarot:** How about now?

Hesitation drowned out by longing answered.

 **Vegeta:** Give me thirty minutes.

 **Kakarot:** **😊** **😊** **😊**

By the time Vegeta got Kakarot’s last text, he’d already turned his computer off and was grabbing his keys.

“Where are you going?” Trunks asked him, glancing over from the TV quickly.

“Out.”

“At four o’clock on a Saturday?” Trunks observed questioningly.

“I’ll be back later on tonight so don’t even think about doing anything you’re not supposed to! That goes for you, too, Goten!” Vegeta hollered.

“Ookkaayyy!” Trunks answered in singsong as his father opened the front door to leave. Vegeta heard Goten laughing beside him, but he ignored them both.

Less than an hour later Vegeta was sitting on Kakarot’s couch _much more sober_ than he had been the last time he was over here. Kakarot was complaining that he had too many clothes on. Vegeta fixed his error right away.

Another week went by, and it was now exactly one week before Trunks’ graduation, and, coincidentally, one week before Vegeta was free of his obligation to Capsule Corp. Trunks and Goten had gone out for the night, partying to celebrate their last day of school. They said they’d be back at Vegeta’s place for the evening when they were through partying with some friends.

With the boys preoccupied, Vegeta went to Goku’s house again. The night was flying by, so much so that they’d lost track of time and worked up an appetite. Now, even though it was nearly 2 o clock in the morning, Goku was cooking them some spaghetti.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Goku asked him.

“Thanking my luck that I don’t have to deal with whatever poor decisions Trunks is going to make after his graduation ceremony,” Vegeta remarked absentmindedly, standing in the dining room as he was reading some random book that he’d found in Goku’s living room.

He’d been snooping around the man’s house every chance he got, as promised, and since Goku never seemed bothered by the fact, he kept doing it, hoping to eventually find some dirt on the man. Or information to questions he was too stubborn to just out right ask. He assumed that none of these books actually belonged to Kakarot, they must have been his wife’s, but he wasn’t about to mention it.

Goku was saying, “Goten’s going with him, right, on the trip Bulma planned? They’re gonna be gone all week?”

“Mn,” Vegeta grunted.

“We should go somewhere.”

“Go somewhere?” Vegeta’s eyes lifted to his form suspiciously. The man looked so good cooking in the near buff like that.

“Yeah! You know, go somewhere… Together,” he offered.

That sounds a lot like a _relationship_ thing, and he’s been avoiding that subject like the plague. How had he let himself be sidelined into the discussion of it so easily?! He wasn’t prepared for this at all right now! So, in true Vegeta fashion, he didn’t reply with anything other than another grunt.

Goku looked over at him for a second before he said, sounding hopeful, “She’ll let you have the time off, won’t she?”

“Hmm?” Vegeta offered noncommittally, pretending like he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t have to worry about getting the time off, but Kakarot didn’t need to know that. Hopefully, if Vegeta keeps quiet and pretends not to be interested, he’ll just drop it.

Goku knew he was listening, though, and he continued to smile despite his reserved attitude. He just kept on stirring the sauce he was making, unbothered. Then, just when Vegeta thought he was in the clear, Goku asked the unthinkable:

“When are we gonna tell them?”

“Tell who what?” Vegeta remarked, still playing dumb, but inside he was starting to panic. _‘He’s serious!’_ he thought. A question like that can only mean that Kakarot is serious _about him_.

He was feeling an uncomfortable mixture of excitement and _terror_. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think they’d be having this conversation so soon. It’s been a month! Well, he supposed it’s been more than a month… More like three since the first time they kissed. This topic was bound to get brought up.

 _‘Say something to him!’_ he mentally screamed, but he still didn’t reply.

Goku was smiling despite his antics, so he couldn’t be all that distressed by Vegeta’s hesitation. He _also_ wasn’t giving up like Vegeta was hoping that he would. Coming right out with it, the man asked, “When are we gonna tell our kids about us?” and he looked up at him, making direct eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Vegeta argued stubbornly. His brain was still frantically trying to reason with (and squash) what he could only presume to call his overwhelming and clearly overreactive emotions. _‘Just keep pretending to be ignorant- He’ll drop it, soon,’_ He told himself, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this charade for much longer if he didn’t.

Truth be told, he’d been wondering the same thing, among other things, but that didn’t mean that he had any answers for him.

Goku looked back down at the pot and said, “I’m pretty sure you know what I mean.”

His straightforward approach to the subject left Vegeta feeling awkward and strange. After contemplating all of his options in the span of a few very hot seconds, and sensing that Goku wasn’t going to drop it, he told him, in his desire to play it safe rather than risk everything, “I’d rather they didn’t know about this, Kakarot,” and he refocused on the book in his hands, flipping the page as if he could shut down the conversation by pretending to be too preoccupied to talk.

In his mind, though, he continued an obstinate and pointless argument with himself, _‘Damn it, Kakarot! You’re just something else, aren’t you?! And here I’ve been trying my best not to think about you whenever you pop into my head as it is. Which is too damn often. And I’ve especially been avoiding the subject of you when I’m around Gohan. And I constantly want to ask about you every time I see Goten! Trunks has been extra suspicious of me lately, for some damn reason, and even Bulma keeps asking me what the hell is going on with me- I keep just wanting to tell her to mind her own business and that I’m in a fucking relation—…_ Shit _.’_

“How come?” Goku wondered, snapping him from his thoughts.

It was yet another one of his honest questions. Vegeta stiffened but eventually scoffed and, since he’d decided to take to the defensive side over the idea, he asked pointedly, “Do your sons even know that you’re into _men_?”

“Well, no,” Goku admitted, not looking at him.

Muttering, Vegeta remarked, “I knew it.”

“I don’t really like having to sneak around, though,” Goku countered, lifting his chin, and smiling at him once again.

Attempting to change his tactics of trying to get out of this., Vegeta set what he was reading down and came up to him from behind. “Oh no?” He taunted seductively, “I thought you were getting a thrill out of sneaking around,” He gently bit his shoulder, making more nips torturously slow towards his spine as his hands drove up his sides.

“Ahh,” Goku sighed, leaning into his touch as he said, “I have.” He argued, though, unwilling to back down, “And it has been fun, but we’d still have fun doing _that_ whether they know about us or not.” He turned around suddenly and pulled Vegeta close as he added, “And then we wouldn’t have to worry about all this pretending anymore.” He rubbed his nose onto Vegeta’s gently as he urged, “Come on, Vegeta, don’t tell me you were planning on hiding this forever?”

Vegeta exhaled sharply and pulled away from his pleading face as he confessed, “Forever?” His heart skipped in his chest as his emotions ran rampantly in his soul, but his mind was caged, trapped in doubt, and he admitted begrudgingly, “I was planning to hide this for as long as it lasts.”

Goku let him go with a strange look in his eyes. Vegeta walked away. Goku turned back around to address what he was cooking, stirring the sauce some more as the water in another pot was slowing coming to a boil.

Vegeta knew that he shouldn’t have said that the moment it left his lips, but it was too late. He couldn’t take it back and it had to be said eventually.

His heart suddenly clenched in his chest, though. What, did he somehow hurt his own feelings with that declaration? He shook it off and picked up his reading material again as he silently hoped that Kakarot would somehow understand and just move on.

But Goku could be just as stubborn as him, he’s learned, and the man remarked, “What do you mean, ‘as long as it lasts’?”

Vegeta contemplated his options. He could still take it back, couldn’t he? He could tell him he didn’t really mean it. He could tell him that he’s just nervous to take that next step. He could tell him about how he’s _never_ taken that next step. He could tell him the truth, even- that he’s fairly sure he’s in love with him but he doesn’t think that he’ll _ever_ love him back.

No! Not that! Anything but that! Where the hell did that even come from?!

Finally, he drawled, throwing a fair amount of annoyance into his voice, “Kakarot, you cannot be serious.”

“I _have_ been serious,” he rebutted swiftly. There it was, again, that perfect whole note of integrity in his voice.

Could he hear the fault in Vegeta’s voice? Could he tell that it was neither flat, nor sharp, but something altogether unhuman in his bluffs?

Vegeta held onto his resolve, though. He’d thought of this scenario before, many times, and he knew what the result would be if Kakarot didn’t agree with him. As much as he didn’t want it to end, he figured it’d be best to just go on ahead and get it over with now, so he threw his logic at him, saying, mocking and derisive, “What do you think this is? We’re just fucking. Nothing more. Eventually you’re going to get tired of me, or I, you, and then this will be over. If we tell them, now, _then_ where will we be? With kids, two of whom are best friends mind you, who won’t understand any of it, and they’ll question why their fathers were so stupid as to get together in the first place. What’s the point? You’d be ruining your _prestigious_ reputation, you know, and any amount of esteem you’ve won, especially in your family’s eyes, if you dared to admit that you were ever with me.”

Goku frowned, his demeanor changing completely as he thought about Vegeta’s words.

Vegeta held his breath.

A tinge of curiosity could be heard, though it was muddled in a flood of other, less obvious emotions, as Goku asked, “Is that how you really feel?”

Vegeta glanced over and noticed that his whole posture had changed, not just his demeanor. He wasn’t so much hurt as he was simply stoic. Patient and pensive.

Vegeta didn’t understand it. Turning away again and ignoring his question because _no_ , but also, _yes_ , he said, “Let’s just call this what it is.”

Turning to stare at him with imploring eyes, Goku wondered, “Well… What is it, Vegeta?”

Vegeta took in a deep, quiet breath and contemplated his next choice of phrasing very carefully. He countered, no more explicative, “I don’t think you’ve really given this much thought.”

“And I guess you have?” Goku quipped, and as Vegeta looked at him, he wondered if it was the hurt in his eyes that far outweighed the anger Vegeta was sure was in there somewhere, even though he couldn’t see much of either. He’s just so calm. He wondered what he was seeing in those eyes at all because whatever it was, he couldn’t name it. Eventually, Goku shook his head and went back to cooking.

Vegeta stood there for a minute, trying to think of something to say to salvage this before he decided that there was no point in trying. The damage was done. He headed to Kakarot’s bedroom, found the rest of his clothes, and put them on. Then he grabbed his keys and his phone and left his house entirely.

By the time he got back to his house he was in a foul mood to say the least. He stormed through the door and headed to the kitchen to get a drink, completely ignoring the blustering looks he was getting from his son and Kakarot’s. He wasn’t expecting them to be there, but it _was_ two o’clock in the morning, so he figured that they’d better be at any rate.

It didn’t matter. He was in no mood to bother with them.

Goten and Trunks had both turned to him and were watching him with surprise all over their faces.

“Everything cool?” Trunks asked jokingly as Vegeta was coming back through the dining room with two beers in his hand.

Vegeta didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at him. When he got to his room, he slammed his door shut and didn’t come back out.

This is his fault, of course, and he knew it was. He blamed himself entirely. He probably didn’t need to leave like he had but he just figured that completely ending it without any more delay would be for the best. He shouldn’t have spent so much time trying to figure out what he really wanted from him in the first place when he knew that he’d wind up ending it one way or another. He didn’t even give it a chance.

Of course he didn’t.

He supposed that’s what he gets for being selfish and allowing this to go on even when he knew it was destined to fail.

Vegeta knew he was an asshole, and he knew that Kakarot didn’t deserve to have to deal with his emotional constipation, but he didn’t know how else to _be_. Kakarot would get over it, though. Vegeta was sure of it. The man didn’t even call him. He didn’t even bother to text.

Honestly, he was surprised it had lasted this long.

Trunks was sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone when Vegeta finally came out of his room and went into the kitchen to start up the coffee machine. His son glanced up at him. Hell, he even put his _phone_ down and _stared_ at him.

Vegeta tried to ignore him, but he hadn’t had his coffee and he was still in a bad mood. As he waited for his coffee to brew, he turned and glared at his son. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Who’s the guy?” Trunks asked him with a blank expression.

“ _What guy?_ ” Vegeta instantly denied, turning away from him as he tried to mentally will his coffee machine to work faster.

Trunks jeered, standing up to come closer to him. He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest as he said, boldly, “Really? You’re really going to deny it? You _know_ what guy. The guy you’ve been seeing for what? At _least_ a month now! The guy who has had you in such a good mood recently—”

“There _is_ _no_ _guy_ , Trunks,” Vegeta growled, refusing to look at him as he tried to hide his own expression of guilt.

“Seriously?!” Trunks laughed, and just like his mother, he pushed the subject, “You’re _not_ fooling me! Besides, I’ve seen the evidence. You’ve had his ‘love marks’ all _over you_!”

Vegeta’s eyes widened at that revelation.

“Wooow!” Trunks laughed again, “You didn’t even _realize_ that did you?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Mom’s noticed, too, you know,” he grinned, “Well, she said she thinks that you’re hiding something anyways.” He cooed, “So, what happened? You guys _obviously_ got into a fight last night.”

Vegeta clenched his jaw as he looked away and refused to answer. His coffee was almost ready, at least.

“ _You did_ , didn’t you?! I’m right?! Oh man, I knew it. So, what are you going to do about it? Has he called? Are you going to call _him_?”

“Trunks! Enough!” Vegeta blurted, his face now red from both the embarrassment of having been caught and, well, no longer having said _boyfriend_.

Trunks chuckled and he was saying, “Look, I’m sorry for laughing, but this is just too interesting! You actually _like this guy!_ ”

The coffee finished brewing and Vegeta blurted out, pouring himself a cup, “Stop talking to me! Go do something, it’s Saturday, damn it. Get a life.” He brushed past him with his coffee, black because he was too distracted to add anything to it at the moment, and he headed for the couch. His head was pounding.

“Oho! I can’t _believe_ this!” Trunks laughed again, and he called out in a teasing manner, “Mister _Single_ has a boyfriend!”

“Trunks!” Vegeta hollered, hurling a couch cushion his direction and hurting his own head at the volume of his own voice, but Trunks dodged quickly, still laughing as he ran off to his room. “Damn you… observant fucking nuisance of a child… I _don’t_ have a _boyfriend_.”

_‘You could have, if you’d just went along with him last night instead of fucking things up like you always do.’_

Vegeta sat there in silence as he grumpily drank his coffee. He nursed the cup for some time before he decided that he needed to get out of the house. There was no particular reason. He just felt like he needed to do something menial. Anything to get his mind off of Kakarot.

He threw on some black boxing pants and some tennis shoes along with a red tank, since the weather was finally nice outside, and then he grabbed his gym bag and headed out. He was planning on hitting the gym first. When he got there, he started his normal routine. One rep led to another, and then another. His anger at himself spurred him onward.

He tried to ignore his thoughts.

When he couldn’t lift another single pound, he jogged on the treadmill in an attempt to clear his mind.

It didn’t work.

After getting cleaned up and leaving the gym, he went out to eat somewhere. He purposefully chose a place he didn’t think that Kakarot would go, because that was the _last_ thing he needs, but he didn’t go to one of his normal, more upscale places, either. Instead, he sat at the bar of a sushi restaurant and ate until his stomach was content.

He checked his phone while he was there. He wasn’t checking it for texts or calls from Kakarot or anything, but there wasn’t anything from the man, either way.

Not that it mattered or that it bothered him.

Finally full, but feeling somewhat out of it, he decided that he should stop by the grocery store. He was not about to go to _Kakarot’s_ grocery store, though, lest the man be there for some crazy reason. Vegeta wasn’t above putting it past him. He didn’t care that the next closest store was an additional fifteen minutes away, it would be worth it if it meant not running into the other man.

He spent some time at the store just looking around as he filled his cart with whatever. The groceries didn’t really mean anything to him, but at least he was getting something accomplished today. Besides, he really needed to make sure that he stocked up the fridge now, anyways, while he still has the money. After paying at the front, Vegeta loaded up his car, and headed back to his apartment.

By the time that he got back home it was after three in the afternoon. He was lugging bags in through the front door when he called out his son’s name. No answer. He set the bags out on the counter and then went to go grab the rest of them. After getting back inside, he set the remaining items down and began unbagging them when a voice coming from his living room startled him.

“Hey, Vegeta…”

Vegeta turned around ready to swing, until he realized that it was none other than Kakarot, sitting on his couch. He was reclined into it, arms spanning across the top on either side of him, one foot pressing into the edge of the coffee table, his eyes directly on Vegeta.

Vegeta nearly gasped at the sight and he thought, _‘Who the fuck does he think he is?!’_ but he couldn’t help his attraction to him even now, as he eyed Kakarot sitting there confidently, and he wondered, _‘How long has he been sitting there?! How long has he been in my house?!’_

Goku stood up and walked over to him.

“How the hell did you get into my house?!” Vegeta demanded to know.

Goku didn’t answer. At least, he didn’t answer his question. Instead, he asked one of his own. “Why’d you leave last night?”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta scoffed, completely disbelieving he was _actually here_ _to_ _discuss this_. Turning away from him he commented, “This is breaking and entering. I could have you arrested,” and he fumbled with one of the bags as a distraction. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“I brought Goten over,” he said from behind him, “The boys went out. I just… never left.”

Vegeta paused and sneered, “How convenient for you.”

Coming to stand next to him, Goku asked him again, “Why’d you leave like that last night?”

“You’re trespassing,” Vegeta grumbled angrily.

In a soft voice, Goku pressed, “Answer the question, Vegeta.”

Vegeta stopped at that and turned to the other man, saying, “Didn’t you hear what I said? You shouldn’t be here.”

Goku explained, “But if I had called, you would have just ignored it, right?”

“That’s right,” Vegeta snapped, going back to unbagging his groceries. “So then you can see that coming over here wasn’t necessary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Looking over at him again, Vegeta yelled, “You can think about it all you want! On your way out the door!”

“Not until you tell me what the problem is.”

Huffing, Vegeta answered, “You really want to know why I left that badly? As if I didn’t make it obvious enough?”

Goku’s eyes shined as he waited.

Questioning himself for just a moment, Vegeta told him pointedly, “I left because it was over.”

Goku cocked his head a little to the side and wondered, “What was over? Our conversation?”

“Yes!” 

Goku shrugged, “Yeah, maybe it could have been ended there, I guess. That would have been fine with me. We could have left it at that and not… turned it into _this_. You leaving without saying anything was really… unexpected.”

Vegeta turned away from him again, unnerved. He was so _calm_ it was baffling. Vegeta didn’t know what to say to that and he couldn’t believe that he was _here_. He maintained, lifting his chin, “I thought I was making myself clear.”

“Well, then I guess I’m a little dense, Vegeta. Spell it out for me.”

Vegeta turned to him, surprised by that remark. “Spell it out for you?!” He repeated, digesting his words and his mood. “Fine!” he spat, resolved on his perspective, “Read my lips. It’s. Over. _This. Us._ What _this_ **was** … is _over_ …” he turned back to the groceries and added bitterly as he continued unbagging them, “You can leave, now…”

Goku, _not_ leaving, put his hand out and placed it on top of one of Vegeta’s, stopping him from continuing to angrily manhandle everything on the table.

Vegeta looked at the warm hand clutching his own. He couldn’t believe he’s still here after _that_! He ripped his hand out of Goku’s grasp, not liking the comfort his touch brought him. He was just about to yell obscenities at him, if he could only find the right words, when Goku cut him off before he could even start.

“If you want to wait to tell them that’s fine with me, Vegeta. I can deal with that. I’m not trying to rush you or anything. It was just a question that I’d been wondering, and we can always discuss it again later. But just because we disagreed on something doesn’t mean that I don’t still want to be with you.”

 _‘No, no, no, no, NO!_ ’ Vegeta’s mind screamed. _‘Stop torturing me! Stop_ tempting _me! Stop saying all the right things!’_ He couldn’t even look at him in that moment.

Goku added, “I wanted to call you, but I thought we needed the night apart to cool off. And I wanted to text you, but I thought this was something we should really discuss in person.”

“Kakarot!” Vegeta blurted out, hypersensitive at the moment, and baffled by him, “Stop making excuses! Leave me alone!”

“Vegeta…”

He finally turned to him, his shoulders tense as he argued, “I don’t want to be with you! Don’t you get it?! It’s not about our sons! It’s about _this_ getting too damn similar to an _actual relationship!_ I told you when we _first met that **I** don’t **do** relationships!_”

Goku’s concentration seemed to mount at that and he asked, “And I asked you what you are so afraid of… You never told me.”

“Afraid?!” Vegeta asked as he grew in alarm, “I am _not_ afraid! You just don’t get it! I never wanted to do this with you in the first place and _this_ is _exactly why_!” 

Goku frowned at him but still stood his ground. Vegeta was turning back to the groceries when he finally asked, “You’re right. I don’t get it, Vegeta. What’s ‘exactly why’?”

Vegeta glared, unsure if he was being a smart ass or not. Overwhelmed, he exclaimed, “You’re serious?”

“Yep.”

“Fine,” Vegeta said, sizing him up, “For one, I’m fairly certain you’ve never even been with a man before me and I do _not_ want to deal with your family’s reactions to you _coming out to_ _them_ , especially not with _me_ —”

“I—” Goku’s frown deepened.

“—And two, as though I haven’t explicitly said this a million times by now, you don’t _know_ me! I’m not a nice guy! I have a bad reputation!”

“That again?” Goku smiled gently.

“ _And!_ ” Vegeta snapped, _“_ Because I _like_ being alone! I am single for a _reason_!”

“Because you want to be?” Goku assessed, still calm and contemplative.

“Yes! You don’t really want this!” he gestured between them, “You don’t want to be in a relationship with me! You only think you do!”

“That’s a strange thing to say.”

“Am I the first person you’ve been with since your wife died?”

“I…” Goku’s brows furrowed as he hesitated.

“Just as I thought!” Vegeta snapped, “I’m your rebound, Kakarot! I’m not your next… whatever it is that you’re thinking we _had_. I don’t _love_ and I don’t _commit_. I _told_ you that.”

Goku seemed to be considering everything he was saying very seriously. Still, he hadn’t moved. He didn’t speak. He didn’t get angry or defensive. He just stood there, and Vegeta could tell his thoughts, whatever they were, were compounding one on top of the other.

Vegeta continued, growing in his confidence as he was finally getting some of his thoughts off his chest, “I bet you don’t even know why you’re _into_ me to begin with, do you? You’re not actually serious about me, you’re just experimenting. I’ve seen it before.”

“That’s not true,” Goku mused softly.

“Well, I’m not serious about _you_. I never was,” he lied.

“I don’t think that’s true, either, Vegeta.”

“Get out of my house, Kakarot,” Vegeta replied sharply and he turned to the groceries yet again to try to unbag them and hide how flustered he was.

Goku demanded, suddenly more assertive, “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? I mean, for longer than just last night…”

“Yes, and your point?” Vegeta huffed, glancing over at him.

“Why’d you wait so long…?”

“Wait so long for what?”

“To tell me you didn’t want anything serious?”

It was a simple question, but Vegeta found that the answer was complicated.

Goku persisted, “Did you think that I wasn’t serious about you?”

Vegeta fought back a blush, or any type of reaction, as he continued to unbag the items on the table.

Goku asked, still needling him gently, “Or maybe I should ask why you gave in to me when I kissed you if you were never really interested in me in the first place?”

Vegeta couldn’t answer _that_ either.

“But I guess what I really want to know is… Why are you pushing me away _now_?”

“I’ve been trying to push you away!” Vegeta finally snapped.

“Yeah,” Goku half-smiled, “I noticed, but I was a little suspicious of why you were trying so hard to get rid of me. You were trying a little _too_ hard. That’s how I was pretty sure you felt it, too. This… ‘thing’ between us… I was pretty sure you were into me, but not _completely_ sure, until after I saw you that night at the bar…” he chuckled, and before Vegeta could deny anything, he added, “I gotta say, I’d been trying to convince myself that it was a bad idea that we get together, but when I saw you with that other guy, I was a little jealous, and I realized that I had more feelings for you than I had admitted to myself.”

Vegeta _liked_ hearing _that_.

Goku went on to explain, “After seeing your reaction to me being there, and the way you were on the way back to my house… And how you kissed me… I kinda got the impression that you didn’t want to push me away anymore,” he chuckled again, “I told you, you’re real hard to read. I think you do it on purpose.”

Vegeta looked away to hide a smirk.

Goku’s half-smile grew to a whole one, and he added, “All the things you said just now… They’re not all true. You never asked me any of that before, and you didn’t really give me a chance to answer any of it, either. But, since we’re working on being honest, I guess I should tell you that I’ve been kind of avoiding asking you those kinds of questions myself.”

Vegeta stared at the far wall in wonder as the man paused again.

Goku rubbed the back of his neck and explained, “I’ve been thinking about everything you said last night, too. You didn’t say you didn’t want to be with me, you just said you didn’t want to tell our kids because you didn’t think it would last between us. I don’t think that’s fair to say, though. I thought that things were going great. Am I wrong?” he waited. “Am I?”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta choked.

Goku brought his hand away from his neck and reached out, grabbing onto Vegeta’s face to get him to look at him. Once Vegeta’s eyes were on his, he asked, “Were you really ready to end it just because I brought up our family?” His voice was still so gentle, so kind and thoughtful.

Vegeta didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to tell him that yes, he was just that damn scared.

“Are we even…” Goku swallowed, “Are you only seeing me? We never talked about it…”

Vegeta still didn’t answer. He wanted to tell him that he’s been exclusive with him, but he didn’t think he’d believe him. He’s given him no reason to.

Goku let go of Vegeta’s chin and shifted to lean against one of the dining room chairs, facing away from him as he added quietly, “I don’t want anyone else, Vegeta.”

_‘Tell him you don’t either!’_

“I’ve got stuff going on, you know, things that I don’t talk about.”

_‘Ask him about it!”_

“And I’m not perfect,” he shrugged, “Who is?”

_‘Disagree with him, damn it! Tell him just how perfect he is!’_

“Ah… I think I understand.”

Vegeta scoffed at that, yet they merely stood there, shoulder to shoulder, but facing opposite directions. It was some time before either of them said another word.

“You know,” Goku braved glancing over at him, “I keep to myself a lot, too, Vegeta.”

Vegeta couldn’t say anything. Instead, he grabbed some of his groceries and headed for the kitchen, not only to put the items away, but to put some distance between himself and Kakarot.

Goku didn’t move after him.

After putting the items Vegeta had grabbed away and stalling for time and clarity, Vegeta decided he still didn’t have anything to say. Now he was just standing in his own kitchen, hiding. Stressing.

Silence filled the home for long, drawn out minutes until Vegeta heard something thud. He thought that maybe Kakarot had left, but he didn’t chance going to look. He placed his hand out on the counter and sighed inaudibly as he considered his words. His patience. His understanding. The man is a fucking saint. 

He was startled when said saint suddenly started walking into his kitchen with a chillingly clear look on his normally cheery face.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, still defensive over his stupid pride. Placing his free hand on his hips, he glared up at him, and said, still trying to pick a fight, “Why are you still here?”

Goku didn’t answer. He just came closer.

“And who do you think you are hanging around in my house when no one is home?”

Remaining silent, he drew ever nearer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vegeta tried again, but his last question was hardly threatening as he was promptly walked backward and into the counter. He put a hand out to try and ward Kakarot off, but it was a weak attempt at best. His eyes flew to Goku’s lips and then back up to his gaze and his heart raced as Goku set his arms out on either side of him. Kakarot used his larger frame much more effectively, and he pressed forward, pinning Vegeta against the ledge and he stood over him. Dark, mysterious eyes were staring down into Vegeta’s.

“Kakarot…” Vegeta started, but Goku got to his lips before he could finish whatever other argument he might come up with.

Submissive beyond all reason, Vegeta answered his kiss for a few seconds before he came back to himself and jerked his face away. Goku allowed him to take another moment to himself, and watched as Vegeta internally questioned everything before he planted his lips to Vegeta’s again as a physical answer to the questions Vegeta never asked.

Vegeta caved once more, the hand on Goku’s chest gliding up the prominent muscle to fist in Kakarot’s unruly hair. His other hand reached up to grab onto his bicep and their kiss deepened. Vegeta just couldn’t help himself.

Moving his mouth to his cheek, Goku whispered in his ear, “I still want to be with you…” His hands lifted from the counter to grab onto Vegeta’s back and he pulled his body closer.

Vegeta drew in air sharply as Kakarot began sucking and biting on the junction between his shoulder and neck. He loves when does that. Still, he found himself arguing, “You’re going to have to respect my boundaries if you want me so damn bad.”

Goku murmured into his neck, “Whatever you say, Vegeta…”

 _‘Fuck…’_ Vegeta couldn’t stop this. He wouldn’t stop this. He didn’t want to stop this.

Kakarot began to grind their bodies together, making Vegeta pant. They were both growing hard, and it was hardly a secret. Kakarot reached around to press his hand against Vegeta’s length, eliciting a breathy moan from his deep voice. 

As stubborn as ever, though, Vegeta growled, “You’re going to get us caught, Kakarot. You practically already have.”

“What’re you talking about?” Goku asked absentmindedly, removing Vegeta’s shirt and ducking down to kiss his exposed upper chest.

Vegeta’s hands gripped his shoulders and he admitted, “Trunks has noticed the marks you’ve been putting on me…”

Goku chuckled, “Oops…” and bit him, hard.

Vegeta moaned and said in a wavering voice, “He asked me just this morning who I’m seeing.”

Goku chuckled, and lifted a hand to Vegeta’s free nipple as he said, “Did you tell him it was me?”

“You think that’s funny?! You’re not clever, Kakarot! You’re— Ahh—” he gasped as Goku tweaked the sensitive area.

“Irresistible?” Goku hummed, smiling. He quickly got onto his knees as he was moving his mouth downward. The wet trail he left caused Vegeta’s otherwise heated skin to shiver as Goku continued to travel the length of Vegeta’s stomach, slowly dipping _lower_.

“ _Yes_ …” Vegeta gasped.

“Mmhmmm, so are you…” he agreed, “See? We’re still getting to know one another… This isn’t so bad, right?” he smiled up at him.

Although not arguing Goku’s actions as he was now pulling down his pants and freeing his cock, Vegeta still exclaimed, “And what if Trunks comes back?”

“Aw, I don’t care about that, remember?” Goku mumbled, licking the underside of his length before pulling the head into his mouth.

Vegeta hissed in pleasure and argued, “You’re directly disobeying me- we just talked about this…”

Goku fisted his erection and then pulled the tip of his cock into his mouth, looking up at him as he did so, daring him to stop him. He didn’t. Goku pulled back, making a show of licking the head of his penis with a wide stroke of his tongue. Vegeta hummed in approval, and Goku smiled triumphantly before taking more of Vegeta’s length into his adoring mouth.

Vegeta smirked, watching as Kakarot turned giving him a blow job into a high art form. He gasped, “You think this is how you’re going to get me to agree with you, hmm?”

Goku pulled away with a popping sound and smiled up at him as he pulled and twisted his cock in his hand experimentally. He said, “That’s not a bad idea…”

“It’s a terrible ide-AH!” Vegeta groaned. His hand fisted into Kakarot’s unruly hair as the man eagerly took in more of him.

Goku made a noise a disagreement with that statement and kept right on with his ministrations.

“My groceries,” Vegeta attempted one last line of defense pitifully.

“Mmm,” Goku hummed over him before pulling back to say, “They can wait.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but think that if they got caught like this, as completely fucked up and awkward as it would be, it would also be absolutely worth it.

The following Thursday Vegeta headed to Capsule Corp. to work for the last time. Seeing as how the next day was Trunks’ graduation ceremony, Bulma agreed to cut their arrangement short by one day. Bulma had even conveniently arranged for Robert not to be there. Vegeta couldn’t have been happier about that. He was looking forward to not having to keep up any pretenses so much after this.

Consequentially, this would be the last time he’d work with Gohan, and as much as Vegeta was ready to be done with Capsule Corp. he’d grown fond of Kakarot’s eldest son. He’s grown fond of Goten, too, for that matter, and he briefly considered that he was going to actually miss his own son when he goes off to college.

Where is this sentimental shift in his attitude coming from? He shrugged it off.

The moment he walked through the door of the labs, Gohan looked over at him, greeting him promptly.

“Vegeta! Good morning!”

Vegeta grunted his usual hello.

“Bulma just told me the news this morning. You’re leaving Capsule Corp., again? I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That makes one of us.”

Unbothered as usual, Gohan went on to tell him, “Two of us if you count Bulma, she didn’t seem too happy about it.”

“She’ll get over it,” Vegeta mused noncommittally.

“Well, I wanted to tell you now, in case I forget, that it was really great getting to work with you.”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at him and said, deflecting, “I’m flattered.”

Gohan laughed, “Don’t be that way, I was being serious.”

“I’m not a scientist, Gohan.”

The young man smiled, “What does that matter?”

Vegeta quirked a brow, “You didn’t think I’d stick around forever, did you?”

The young man thought for a second before he said, “Well, no, I guess not.”

Vegeta huffed, “Do _you_ plan on sticking around here forever?”

“Oh, uh, haha,” he laughed again, “Long-term goals, huh? I guess I’d like to make it last as long as I can. The experience means everything to me.”

“Experience?” Vegeta wondered, “You have a master’s degree and you’re already a Science Professor as it is. What more experience do you need?”

Gohan smiled, “I meant… the _experience_. Of learning. Creating. You know, _experimenting_! It’s not every day you get the opportunity to tinker with things that could potentially cut through the space-time vortex. This project could change the world as we know it. Or at least, change some things up in the science community, anyway.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but chuckle at that and he shook his head at him. “Your father must be so proud of you,” he said and then he turned away as he wondered what the hell came over himself to say _that_.

Gohan answered, “You’ve met my dad, haven’t you?” He laughed, “This definitely isn’t his kind of thing.”

Vegeta smirked but didn’t reply.

Gohan sighed, “He really doesn’t care what I do for a living. My mom on the other hand, she would have been proud.”

“I’m sure,” Vegeta nodded, feeling odd about the direction the conversation had taken. He turned to him and said, shocking even himself, “Don’t live your life for someone else, Gohan. You’ll only wind up disappointed and without purpose.”

Gohan hummed as he thought about his words, “Thanks. You know, Vegeta… I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Feh,” Vegeta answered, taken off guard, and still not looking at him, “Miss having me around? Doubtful. Besides, you’ll have a fine partner in Mr. Sharp, don’t you think?”

Gohan chuckled, and he seemed a little embarrassed, too, as he said, “Well, if nothing else, I’ll miss your sarcasm.”

Vegeta smirked and, finally looking over at him again, he said, “At least you understand sarcasm.”

The young man chuckled. After a moment or so of silence between them, he asked, “If you don’t mind telling me, where are you going to be working now?”

Vegeta blinked and didn’t offer an answer.

Gohan smiled sheepishly and began rubbing the back of his head the way Vegeta’s noticed Kakarot does from time to time. He said, “I guess that was a bit rude. I was just wondering because, what with Trunks graduating and all, I didn’t know if you’d taken a job in another city or something. Ah, I’m probably just… projecting.”

Vegeta sensed something was up with him for some reason. Parental intuition maybe? He wondered, hesitating, but asking, “Something on your mind, boy?”

“No! Well, not really,” Gohan answered and there was a tell of faltering in his movements, where the young man is usually very fluid and confident.

Vegeta wondered what was bothering him, but he’d already asked once. He wasn’t going to do it again. He declared, “Let’s get to work, shall we? I’d like this day to go by fast if it can be helped.”

Gohan nodded, “Do you have plans later?”

“Plans?” Vegeta lifted a brow.

Gohan smiled, “Yeah, I mean… I… Never mind.”

Vegeta was certain he was currently giving Gohan a strange look, but he wasn’t certain about anything else. All he knew was that he was grateful that he wasn’t going to have to work with his lover’s eldest son any longer, and possibly risk whatever the hell that just was between him and Gohan, some sort of weird bonding moment, happening again. Besides, he didn’t need him and Kakarot being revealed, and while Goten didn’t seem the type to catch on, Gohan certainly did.

It was clear that _something_ was on the young man’s mind, though. Vegeta just didn’t have what it takes to pry it out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you asking about the angst and where this is going, it's going somewhere I promise and there is more angst to come. I don't know how else to explain my plans other than to simply say that. So stay tuned! The pieces are going to start fitting together...
> 
> \---I know the pieces fit 'cause I watched them fall away---


	16. 16

16

Trunks’ graduation went by in a blur. Far too many people were crowded around and there was far too much ceremonious bullshit involved for what, to Vegeta, seemed like a small accomplishment in the grand scheme of things. He supposed these kids had to start somewhere, but since they were practically forced to attend school in the first place, isn’t graduating more like getting a participation trophy? Vegeta had dropped out of high school and still managed to get a degree with only a GED, not that his degree means much to him anymore.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

He noticed the parents sniffling and cheering around him and he turned to his ex-wife, amazement in his eyes at her own pitiful state. Bulma refused to cry in public, but Vegeta could still tell the woman was emotional, which was so unlike her. The changes he could see happening in her made him question the changes he’s noticed happening in himself. He wondered if the subtleties of aging were to blame. They were both heading very rapidly into mid-life, after all, and it didn’t help that one of their children seemed to be heading even faster into adulthood. The other won’t be far behind.

Vegeta looked back up onto the stage and zoned out. Trunks’ name had long been called, but they were still expected to sit and be polite for all of the other students. It was boring and stupid.

Bulma coerced Vegeta into joining the rest of the family for dinner that evening, which was quite a feat to accomplish, but she’s had practice. Vegeta was reluctant, of course, but she managed to wrangle him into it at last. The dinner was nice, though. Both of Bulma’s parents were there along with Bra, and everyone was dressed up and in a good mood, especially Trunks, marking the occasion as something to be remembered.

Had Vegeta known that it would be the last time that he would get the chance to dine with them like this, with just _him_ as the father figure, he might not have taken it for granted the way that he did. He might have been more jovial around them. He might have been more attentive to them. He might have been more open with them. He might have even told them how much they all mean to him.

But who is he kidding? He didn’t do any of those things. He remained mostly stoic, quiet, and reserved.

He headed home shortly after dinner, needing to be alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t get his damn father out of his head for some reason. Funny how the most obscure things tend to bring up the most random memories.

Here he goes feeling tense again.

Kakarot didn’t call or text him throughout the whole thing. Vegeta really didn’t mind. As nice as Kakarot’s presence is, it wouldn’t have been a good night to see him, not if he wants to at least _attempt_ to keep up his normal unbothered and unaffected façade.

He may have been unaware of how much things were going to change in his life, but he felt melancholy, as though sensing an incoming storm. He might not have been able to pinpoint a specific problem as the culprit of his mood, but his recognized own moodiness, nonetheless. He wasn’t about to delve into it any deeper though. A few stiff drinks and it was off to bed for him. 

The next day Kakarot invited him to the gym to spar. Vegeta looked forward to it more than he thought that he should, even now that they were in a relationship. Especially now that they were in a relationship. He was quickly getting _attached_ but he pretended not to notice.

When he arrived, the place was busy, but Kakarot met him at the front and led him to the back room again, which was apparently for his own personal use, because no one else was ever in there as far as Vegeta could tell. It didn’t take long for them to get warmed up enough to really start exchanging blows, and Vegeta wondered which version of Kakarot he was going to be graced with today.

It didn’t take him long to find that out, either.

His feet being kicked out from under him had pissed him off, but he didn’t have time to respond as his back was being slammed onto the mats immediately following. His hands being pinned to the cushion was one thing, and he _could_ have struggled out of the hold if he’d wanted to, but the mouth that covered his promptly afterwards was another thing entirely, and Goku forbade him from even _wanting_ to get out of his hold.

“Losing focus again, Kakarot?” Vegeta breathed as that same mouth went to attack his neck.

Goku quickly let go of his hands and he moved to pull his pants down. “I just can’t resist,” He grinned down at home.

“Now I know why you wear those baggy pants all the time…” Vegeta hummed, sliding his own tighter fitted pants down his hips.

“That’s not _exactly_ why, but it definitely helps…” Goku smiled, as he pulled some lube out of his pocket.

Vegeta chuckled. “You _planned_ this,” he said, smirking as he sat up and ran his hands down Goku’s slightly damp chest and abs.

“I like to be prepared for anything,” Goku confessed, going back to kissing his neck. He licked a with a tantalizingly long stroke, making his way up to Vegeta’s ear, and then he pulled back again to dip lower, going for his chest as he slicked himself.

“You said this was against the rules…”

“Yeah, but I made sure I locked the door and I own this place, so…” he countered, pushing Vegeta back onto his back and lifting his legs, which were still mostly covered, to rest on his shoulders.

“Yes, but now we have to be quiet, and I enjoy hearing the noises you make when you’re uninhibited…” Vegeta cooed.

Goku chuckled, “Well, _I_ like watching you try to stay quiet.”

Vegeta mock jabbed him in the shoulder, smirking, and replied, “I think you just like the idea of us getting caught.”

Goku hummed as he ran his slicked hand down the inside of Vegeta’s thigh and said, “That’s on you… Do you think you can stay quiet?”

“Do you think you can make me break?” Vegeta moaned.

Goku pressed into him with one finger, slowly, and huffed, “Yeah… But don’t be _too_ loud, okay?” Vegeta quivered beneath him and bit his lip to prove a point. Goku smiled as he added a second finger and said, “I think _some_ of your noises can be explained but not _all_ of them…”

“You fucker,” Vegeta growled, but he arched his back in portrayal of what he was desperately trying to vocally conceal.

Goku was holding his legs in place so that he couldn’t move away as he continued to press into him. Vegeta was panting as he lay before him, with nothing to grab on to, and nothing beneath him but the cool touch of the mats. The padded cushions felt amazing against his heated skin. He swallowed as Goku removed his fingers and watched him expectantly. Goku quickly placed the head of his cock at Vegeta’s entrance and pressed forward, and Vegeta cried out, in spite of himself.

“You’re being too loud,” Goku groaned, teasing him as he watched him, and he pressed forward as he said, “We haven’t even gotten started…”

Vegeta moaned again as he was slowly being impaled, and he tried to wiggle his legs free for more control, but Goku’s hold on them was too strong. Goku pulled back and, with a piston jerk of his hips, he filled him to the hilt.

“Fucking damn it! Kakarot!”

“Vegeetahhh…” Goku panted, “Should I get something to cover your mouth with?” He let go of his legs and leaned forwards, kissing him briefly.

“It’s not _my_ fault,” Vegeta told him, breaking their kiss momentarily, “And _I’m_ not the one breaking the rules here.”

Goku began a steady rhythm as he replied, “You’re still guilty of… being my partner…” He placed a hand over Vegeta’s mouth as his panting became more obvious. “Shhh… babe… damn…”

Vegeta grabbed his hand to tear off of him and argued, “You’re the one who… couldn’t just _wait_ …”

“You’re right…” Goku grunted, rolling his hips forward, “I couldn’t just wait…” He gripped Vegeta’s waist and dragged him closer.

Vegeta pulled his shirt up, revealing his own toned chest and stomach. He bit down on the end of it, hoping that it would at least muffle the sounds that he couldn’t help but make. Goku appreciated the display more than he could say, but he was sure trying to show him.

Having sex like this was so exciting for both of them. It felt so good, and not only for the thrill of trying not to get caught.

They both climaxed quickly but Goku climbed forward to kiss Vegeta lazily, not finished with him, yet. They laid there for some time out on the mats just exchanging passion through their tongues without ever saying a word as hands glided along muscle encased by supple skin. Finally, breathless, and less distracted, they decided they’d better put themselves back together.

After covering up, Goku asked Vegeta to walk him through some of his normal exercises and stretches. Vegeta was surprised by the request, but he gladly complied. So, for the first time, instead of sparring, they simply did a workout together. They shared part of their own personal routines with one another, each man trying to outdo the other on this number of reps or that form. They knew they’d be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.

Afterward cleaning up after themselves and showering off, they went out to eat again, and then they headed to Kakarot’s. They’d had such a great day and evening together that Vegeta actually agreed to spend the night when Goku asked him. The man insisted that he didn’t want him to go, and Vegeta had to admit that Kakarot had worn him out. He didn’t want to leave.

Waking up in Goku’s bed was a strange sensation for Vegeta. One he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. That morning, though, soon after waking up, he told Kakarot he needed to go. There was no reason other than the fact that he was nervous to simply _stay_. Goku was half asleep when he told him, and he muttered something about having somewhere to be later, anyways. Vegeta practically ran out of his home.

They’d never talked about their fight again after Goku had reconciled their relationship into _actual relationship_ terms without so many words, and while Vegeta accepted the fact that they are now in a relationship, he wasn’t about to go screaming it on rooftops or, and more to the point, celebrating it too early.

It was still _far_ too early to tell what would become of them yet, and although they saw each other several more times that week, more times in that one week than ever _before_ , Vegeta continued to pretend that it wasn’t all that great.

Still, Kakarot was perfect. There when he wanted him, sometimes even when he needed him, and silent when Vegeta wasn’t sure what he wanted or needed at all. He was silent more than Vegeta cared for, but while it didn’t make sense, Kakarot’s absences were almost fitting, really. That being said, everything between them was downright wonderful whenever the man was around, regardless of whether Vegeta wanted to admit that or not.

But he’s been lying to him, and it made him uneasy to think about, even though he’s resolved to continue to do it. Kakarot doesn’t know that he’s unemployed again, and as long as Kakarot was busy Vegeta figured he wouldn’t notice that he wasn’t. Kakarot doesn’t know that he’s anxious to be dating him, either. Vegeta hoped that the man wouldn’t notice anything off and he knew that the less he’s around, the less likely Kakarot will catch on. Kakarot doesn’t know that he’s been battling with depression and guilt and frustration beyond the surface of things that he’s shown him thus far. He didn’t _ever_ plan on sharing any of _that_ with the happy-go-lucky man. Kakarot still doesn’t know anything about him, and it was for the best. Kakarot doesn’t _need_ to know him any better, and he never will, if Vegeta can help it.

He tried to focus on himself and figure out where he was supposed to be going from here, what he was supposed to be doing- who the hell he even is at this point. He just didn’t know anything anymore and he didn’t know when he’d gotten so lost, or how to turn back to find where he’d left the path, much less navigate his way through the mess he’s made of his life from where he stands.

That’s okay for now, though, he can manage himself, but the last thing he needs is for _Kakarot_ realize anything is off with him. So, he pretended everything was fine.

When Trunks got back home his vacation the following Sunday, he was quick to run to his room to drop his things off. When he came back out, he began to talk about how much fun he and Goten had despite the fact that his father didn’t ask.

Vegeta glanced up at him and took in his appearance. He was tanner than usual, as was expected, and even with all of the partying he’d done, he still looked youthful, healthy, and awake. By the careless chatter coming out of his mouth, he was also clearly still worked up. Vegeta looked away without saying a word in response, but the young man completely ignored the fact that Vegeta was obviously busy typing on his computer.

What does it matter to a seventeen-year-old that his father was trying to revamp his resume for the seventy-second time?

Trunks continued to prattle on and Vegeta continued to listen half-heartedly. His son briefly talked about some of the things they’d done, and then he quickly spouted off all the rest of the things he wants to do this summer before he goes off to college. Vegeta didn’t respond to any of it with anything more than a grunt, once, to let him know that he was being heard.

Trunks didn’t seem to mind that his father was only partly listening, so it took Vegeta off guard when his son suddenly teased, “I almost forgot to ask! How are things going with your new _boyfriend_?”

Vegeta looked up and glared at him but he refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer, or the condemnation of a cryptic reply.

Trunks was grinning at him something fierce, “You guys ever make up or what?” 

Vegeta scowled, pursing his lips as he clenched his jaw in his silence. He continued editing, the only noise coming from his side of the room was the click-clack of tapping the keys on his keyboard.

Trunks laughed gingerly and came forward, “Well? You don’t have anything to say?”

Ignore and avoid, that was Vegeta’s motto.

Trunks clicked his tongue, “You did! You guys are totally back on! I can tell.”

Vegeta blinked. _‘How dare he?!’_ he thought. What was giving him away? Is it that obvious? He wasn’t sure if he was blushing or not, and he couldn’t risk looking up at his son to deny or confirm his accusations.

“Come on!” the young man pushed, “Tell me who he is at least! What’s his name? What’s he do for a living? Can’t you just give me something?”

Again, Vegeta ignored him, although the grin he could see on his son’s face out of the corner of his eye was grating on his nerves. Either that or it was contagious, because Vegeta was two seconds away from smirking and saying something smart. On second thought, he remained quiet and withheld the information for his pride’s sake. He was _not_ going to give in to Trunks the way he does with Bulma.

Trunks scoffed, “Fine. Have it your way…” he tapped his fingers on the table, “Buuut… I already figured it out, anyways.”

Vegeta’s heart thudded and he thought, holding his breath, _‘You’re bluffing…’_

“What are you even trying to hide it for anymore?”

It took everything in him not to respond.

Trunks continued to stare his father down, watching him closely. “Your silence makes you more guilty, you know.”

Vegeta had a lump in his throat, but he resisted the urge to swallow it.

His son suddenly cried, “Yep, I knew it. You _definitely_ have a man! I mean, if he didn’t exist, you would have said something by now!”

Vegeta let out a long, slow breath and continued to type away, confident that Trunks _didn’t_ know what he thought he knew, after all. Vegeta was keeping his poker face up to the best of his abilities, but at this point just _staying_ quiet was taking all of his effort.

“I want to meet him,” Trunks chimed, changing his tone to something more hopeful as he headed for the kitchen, “Any man who talked _you_ into a relationship has got to be pretty damn special. Hell, I wanna shake his hand!”

Again, Vegeta said nothing, but he felt _everything_. At the turn of Trunks’ back to him, Vegeta swallowed hard and let out a small smirk as he thought about Trunks shaking Kakarot’s hand. He straightened his expression out a second later, though.

“Is he good-looking? He’s got to be, right?” Trunks asked, staring into the fridge in between glancing over at his dad, “Is he rich? Younger, older? What’s he like? You can tell me! I’m judgement free here! I just wanna meet him! I mean, is he nice? Or is he a hard ass like you? Or what?”

Vegeta felt that even blinking was giving him away at this point, and the guilt he felt at staying quiet ate at him, but he refused to be conned into talking. He knew Trunks was just trying to bait him for information.

“Any chance I’ll find out who he is before I go to college?! Or maybe you’re waiting until I’m out of here before you start bringing him around?!” His son chuckled as he took the milk out of the fridge. He chugged some of it straight from carton before he said, “Man, you’ve been shopping more, too. Has he been over here or something? You trying to impress this guy? How long’s that gonna last before he finds out you’re not exactly the home-making type?”

That struck a chord, and while Vegeta tried his best to just ignore his son, he was tensing up all the same.

“Is he more talkative than you?” Trunks laughed again, shutting the fridge, “I sure hope so! Otherwise, you two would make a pretty boring couple. You’re so, I don’t know, anti-social. Do you even talk to him at all? Like all laughing and joking and stuff? No way! Or is it all physical? Gross, I don’t know why I just asked that.” He tutted, “I bet it’s more than that, though, right? I bet he’s _really_ interesting, isn’t he?”

Vegeta’s emotions started flitting around in his chest. Why was Trunks asking questions that are so… _specific_? And why the fuck are the unspoken answers upsetting Vegeta so damn much?

Trunks hummed, seeming to be talking to himself as he said, “Hmm… I wonder what your type is, anyways? I’ve never actually _seen_ you with another guy before.”

Vegeta was just about to snap at him when Trunks’ phone went off. He answered it, told the person on the other line that he was ready to go, and then said that he’d see them soon. He asked his father, dropping their previous topic and changing his tone once again, “I can go out, right? I made plans with some friends. Summer’s only started!”

“I don’t even know why you bother asking, anymore,” Vegeta barked at him.

“Sweet! Cool! See ya later!” he cheered, rushing back to his room to grab a few things, and then heading out the door. “Bye!”

Vegeta shut his computer screen and huffed the moment Trunks was gone. His son’s interrogation bothered him more than he thought it should. Trunks was asking him the same damn questions he was asking himself, only in a different way. So now he knew that it wasn’t all just in his head. He _is_ every bit the asshole he thinks he is, and Kakarot has _no_ rhyme or reason to like him.

He shook his head and opened his computer up again. He needs to find a job. He _needs_ to get a life outside of Kakarot and working out.

Maybe he’ll pay another visit to the fight club later.

He sighed as he thought of his son again. It’s clear that Trunks is a capable and clever young man, that’s for sure. It’s also obvious that he has plans and a life of his own. Vegeta silently hoped that he would make the most of his future.

It was now June and Vegeta was still trying his damnedest to find a job. He’s had a few interviews, but none of them led to a call back. He was beginning to wonder if he’s exhausted all of his options in this city. He wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe he should consider switching his career.

Kakarot’s been busy as of late, and not as available as he had been, and Trunks has all but completely disappeared, always coming and going with Goten, often at times when Vegeta wasn’t awake or at home. The only things he saw of his son were the tale-tell breadcrumbs he left behind in his hurry.

That was fine. Vegeta was used to Trunks running off all the time, but now he didn’t have much to distract him from his problems. The only other event going on _aside_ from Kakarot’s positive existence in his life was Bra’s birthday coming up shortly this month. Bulma invited Vegeta to come over to Capsule Corp on their little girl’s birthday for her party, which Vegeta saw coming a mile away. He agreed to go over there, of course, but once he did, Bulma sprung up the very nonchalant mention that Yamcha was going to be there, too.

Vegeta was _pissed_ by this news. He didn’t want that man to meet their daughter on her birthday of all days, but Bulma insisted that it would be a fun and neutral environment for her, where a lot of adults were going to be there, like the parents of her friends, and where the pressure would be off both Vegeta and Yamcha and herself to try and make things cordial.

“It’s a nine-year-old’s birthday party Vegeta!” she’d told him over the phone, “You don’t even have to stay that long, although I wish you would. Just come over, meet Yamcha, spend some time with your daughter, and go whenever you please. It’s not a fucking crisis. I swear, you men! Always overthinking the simplest things! But then you don’t think at all when it comes to the bigger stuff!”

“What about not introducing our daughter to anyone so soon?!” Vegeta argued.

“It’s been six years!” Bulma cried, “And I’ve been dating him for longer than you think! Just because _you’re_ never going to bring anyone around doesn’t mean that I can’t move on, Vegeta!”

Well, shit. She was right. Vegeta would _never_ bring anyone around his daughter and risk her possibly getting attached. Never mind the fact that he was dating a man that Bra, incidentally, has already met.

Vegeta knew that he’d have to get it over with eventually. Bulma, like himself, didn’t step into a relationship lightly. If Yamcha is someone Bulma regarded with high enough esteem to set this up, then Vegeta had no choice but to play along with it if he wanted to keep the peace.

Believe it or not, he did want to keep the peace.

The day of Bra’s party, Vegeta arrived at Capsule Corp. fairly early to go ahead and give Bra her present and get settled before any of the other guests arrived. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of him, but appearances in this instance meant everything, and he wanted Yamcha to know that his place in this home was not going to change just because of the other man’s entrance onto the scene.

Bulma was surprised to see him there ahead of schedule, but she was too busy getting things (and herself) ready to bitch at him. She didn’t mind him being there; the workers always seemed to stay on task a little better whenever Vegeta was around. Besides, Vegeta kept Bra preoccupied instead of on her mother’s heels or bouncing off the walls in her excitement over all of the fun she was going to have today.

While Vegeta was speaking with Dr. Briefs and Bunny, Goku sent him a text saying that he was sorry he’s been so busy and asking if he wanted to hang out. Vegeta had to decline, and he was quick to do so. Goku offered for later today and asked Vegeta when a good time was, but Vegeta couldn’t answer him with anything concrete. He couldn’t even focus enough on the texts to type out a decent response, not without perhaps being noticed, so he left him on read. By the time he remembered to respond, it had been a couple of hours, and he had to run off to the bathroom to do so, where he promptly turned his phone to silent afterwards.

By the time the guests began to arrive, Vegeta was beside himself with nerves he didn’t quite understand. Bulma finally had the time and the headspace to manage speaking to everyone, but Vegeta was last on her list. When Yamcha arrived, Vegeta wished he weren’t on her list at all, and he realized too late that he was ill prepared for an interrogation today.

Bulma pressed for the two men to come face to face almost immediately, and once she managed it, she left them alone to speak to each other while she tended to the schedule for the kid’s playtime and made sure that the rest of the parents were helping themselves to the refreshments and snacks available to them.

Yamcha greeted Vegeta properly, shaking his hand as he held onto a small gift with the other. He seemed a little uneasy to meet him, but he was casual, as much as he could be, as he commented on how wonderful his children are.

He was saying, “I’ve met Trunks a few times, he reminds me a lot of Bulma, but she says there’s a lot of you in him, too. He’s a smart kid. Bulma’s always talking about Trunks and Bra. You’d think for a woman as busy as she is, she wouldn’t have the time to focus on them like she does. She’s such a great mother, isn’t she? She’s pretty amazing all around, I have to say.”

Vegeta merely grunted and replied, “She is and there’s no bullshitting her about it.”

Yamcha laughed, nervously, “Yeah, well, no one would dare try, right? I mean… Uhh…” he stuttered.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as he suddenly realized why he felt so nervous. Yamcha must know why she got a divorce. _Vegeta_ is the one who tried to bullshit her. _Vegeta_ is the one who fucked up. _He’s_ the one who _should_ feel like the odd man out in this scenario.

This is an absolute disaster. 

Yamcha seemed downright terrified to be speaking to him, though. It was clear, as he was fumbling over his words in the small talk Vegeta clearly loathed to be having, that he was scared of saying the wrong thing. He was scared of making a bad impression. Vegeta just… couldn’t care less all of the sudden. The man had done nothing wrong. All he’d done was fall for a beautiful woman any man would be _lucky_ to gain the attention of, and Vegeta felt like a fool for even giving the man the time of day, much less harboring any hatred towards him.

He wasn’t _trying_ to intimidate him, but it seemed he didn’t have to try, and that Yamcha was simply ill at ease, regardless. The more the man talked, and the more Vegeta got to know him, the more he realized that the man was not a threat to his daughter or to Bulma in any way. He seemed like a nice guy. He genuinely seemed like a nice man who was simply trying to step up and step in, as much as Bulma would allow. Vegeta honestly didn’t know why he was ever even concerned about his judgment of him in the first place. Bulma could handle herself.

Bulma brought Bra over not long into their very one-sided conversation and introduced the young lady to Yamcha. Vegeta watched as Yamcha got down on her level to give her the present. He watched as his daughter’s eyes lit up as she opened it, and, at her mother’s insistence, she thanked the man for the gift. Vegeta watched as Bra showed the gift to him, silently begging for approval neither she nor Yamcha needed. Vegeta nodded at her and told her to go off and show her friends. She ran away, full of glee Vegeta wished he understood, but knew he never would.

He never had, and he never will, but he adored that trait in her. She certainly didn’t get it from him

“So,” Bulma grinned at Vegeta, wrapping an arm around Yamcha’s, “How’s work going?”

“Fine,” Vegeta lied, averting his eyes.

“What do you do for a living?” Yamcha asked him nonchalantly.

Vegeta glared at him, “Work.”

Yamcha laughed, again so nervous, and said, “I retired from baseball, but I didn’t stop working entirely. I coach now. Not on a professional level or anything, but it’s a rewarding job and I don’t have to kill myself over training anymore.”

“That’s a good thing!” Bulma said, interrupting the smart remark she knew was soon to come out of Vegeta’s lips if she didn’t step in, “You know, I just remembered I wanted to talk to you about something, Vegeta. Do you have a minute?”

Vegeta obliged, eager to get away, as Bulma told Yamcha that they’d only be a second.

She led him further into the house, away from everyone else, before she turned to him and asked, “Okay, tell me what’s wrong?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You have a weird look on your face,” she remarked.

He rolled his eyes, “It’s the look of disgust that I even have to stand here and listen to that pansy talking for more than five minutes.”

“No,” she shook her head, “It’s not. I’ve seen that look. I know what that look looks like. This is something else.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he argued, “Is this what you had to say? If it is then I’ll just go.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know… I guess I thought that you were going to, I don’t know, stick around for a _little_ while longer. I thought you wanted to grill him with questions. Make him sweat a little.”

Vegeta scoffed, “He already is. If I actually _tried_ , he might piss himself.”

Bulma couldn’t decide if she wanted to frown or smirk and her lip quirked as she tried not to do either before she finally said, “Okay, so you’re just going to leave, then? You don’t have _anything_ to say?” Her disbelief was evident.

Annoyed, Vegeta replied, “Bra’s preoccupied with her friends, you’re busy with your guests, and _he’s_ not my concern. Yes, I’m going to leave. I’ve met your new man; that was the deal, wasn’t it? I’ve done my part and that’s quite enough.”

“Okay,” she nodded, although she looked perturbed. Vegeta wondered what she was thinking, but it wasn’t longer before she spoke up again, “Before you go, I’ve been meaning to ask you, seriously, how _is_ work going for you? Are you happy?”

“Happy?” he returned, the word sounding foreign on his tongue, “What does that matter? Are _you_ happy?” He quipped in a snarky tone, “Are Robert and _Wonder Boy_ living up to your standards?”

Bulma frowned that time and answered, “If you were so concerned about that, you wouldn’t have left.”

“Well, we’re not together, so I don’t know why you’re acting concerned about my ‘happiness’ in the first place,” he growled and then added sarcastically, “The least I could do is return the gesture.”

“You’re such a jerk, you know that?”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Vegeta answered, heading for the door.

“I don’t know why I ever expected anything different from you!” Bulma huffed. Normally she would have yelled after him to say goodbye to Bra before he left, but this time she didn’t bother.

Vegeta walked away and stepped over to Bra to tell her bye anyways, and then he told Yamcha that he’d be seeing him around in his _least_ threatening voice before he left altogether.

When he got into his car, he pulled away and headed home as quickly as he could. When he got into the apartment parking lot, he got his phone out to check for any messages before heading inside. Goku had offered for them to get together later tonight. Vegeta shook his head at the tempting text. He was in a terrible mood. He just couldn’t do it. He texted back to tell Kakarot that he had a lot going on and that he’d talk to him tomorrow. He waited for his response, buying a little time to himself in case Trunks was home. Goku messaged him back fairly quickly, throwing him a thumbs up and a smiley face. Vegeta left it at that, getting out of his car to head inside.

Vegeta _should_ have just gone over to see Kakarot, it’s what he really _wanted_ to do, but he knew that he’d risk actually _talking_ about something personal with him if he did and he wasn’t willing to do that. Besides, he was fairly certain that Kakarot wasn’t going to be sentimental to his problems. The man lost his wife to something far more evil and cruel than infidelity, and unlike himself, Kakarot had committed no crimes. He was innocent, while Vegeta was far from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated my chapter count BUT it's just a guess, nothing is concrete yet, so it is subject to change at any time...
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and to those of your who review! It really means a lot! 
> 
> And thank you Baby_Buu for not getting *completely* annoyed with my very annoying self lol You're so helpful and I can't be more appreciative!


	17. 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby_Buu said I should just go ahead and post this, so, uh... Here ya go!

17

The next weekend Vegeta found himself at Kakarot’s apartment again, which hadn’t exactly been in the plan. In fact, it _wasn’t_ in the plan, and their plans have now gone into completely unexpected territory. They had just stopped by for a minute, with Goku _insisting_ they wouldn’t be long and that he just needed to _do_ something really quick, and then they were supposed to go out to eat. Vegeta didn’t know what Kakarot needed to “do” until one suggestive thing led to another though (like Goku’s hand to Vegeta’s dick, and then Vegeta’s dick into Goku’s mouth…) and before Vegeta knew it, he was writhing on Kakarot’s bed, being rammed thoroughly by his cock. They had only just finished and were kissing fervently in their aftermath when they heard the front door open.

“Dad?” Goten called.

Vegeta’s face, which was already flushed from their exercise, turned a whole different shade of pink.

“Uh oh,” Goku whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

Goten had come home early and without warning. Lucky for them, Goku’s natural, somewhat goofy demeanor wasn’t very suspicious and he left to greet his son and find out what his plans were so they could resume their own.

Trunks must have dropped him off for some reason, but since Vegeta’s car was still at Goku’s gym, there’s no way Trunks could know that he was here. That meant Vegeta was _actually_ stuck here until Goku could find a way to get him out unnoticed, though.

Vegeta might have been annoyed by the circumstances, being confined to Goku’s bedroom and all, and hungry on top of that, had it not been for the fact that he was currently very satisfied and enjoying watching Kakarot come and go from his own room looking guilty and yet somehow perfectly blameless all at the same time. That, and it helped that he sort of liked seeing the other man squirm uncomfortably for once. It really wasn’t all that bad. Besides, he found a decent book to read in the meantime, (one that he’s brought into Kakarot’s room from the time he’d spent here before) and when he wasn’t reading, he could appreciate the view of his lover in an unbuttoned shirt and hardly concealing sweats.

Vegeta tutted as he heard Kakarot coming down the hall. The man has been in and out of his room so many times that Vegeta knew that if the situation were reversed, and it was him instead of Goku sneaking around Trunks instead of Goten, Trunks would have been at least _suspicious_ of him by now.

He couldn’t help his smirk when Kakarot came back in and shut the door quickly behind him.

“What?” Goku whispered as he turned and noticed Vegeta’s eyes all over him.

Vegeta chuckled, murmuring quietly, “You look like you’re hiding a puppy from your parents every time you do that.”

“Haha!” Goku smiled as he laughed softly, “No I don’t! It’s your idea to keep hiding, anyways. I can always drag you out there and be done with it if you want!”

“You wouldn’t dare if you ever want to see me again,” Vegeta whispered harshly, but the usual venom in his words was practically nonexistent.

Goku smiled and laid down beside him on the bed, wrapping his arm around his trim waist. He whispered back, knowingly, “I don’t think you could stick to that threat, Vegeta. What would you do with all your spare time? Go back to the bar? That’s _booring_. And you know it.”

“That is not all I do!” Vegeta sniped back quietly.

“Well, what _do_ you do with your free time? Read?” Goku asked, pestering him, and flicking the back of the book as he grinned up at him with that impossible-to-resist smile. Vegeta opened his mouth to reply, even as he was still trying to come up with a response, but Goku jumped up suddenly. “I forgot something!” he said softly, pressing a finger to Vegeta’s lips, “Be right back. Hold that thought.”

“This is ridiculous!” Vegeta smarted off, whispering after him, but he chuckled as the man tried to act casual every time he left, whistling as he was shutting the door behind him in a most awkward manner, before cheesing out into a wide grin. Keeping the door shut clearly wasn’t something he was used to doing and Vegeta couldn’t help but laugh to himself every time Goku left.

Vegeta could hear Goten talking to his father nearly every time Goku went out there. The young man seemed to be having a hard time getting settled into whatever his normal routine was tonight, and the amount of conversation the two of them shared was baffling to Vegeta.

Goten didn’t seem to be in a great mood, either, which was abnormal for him. Vegeta could hear what he thought was Goku suggesting that Goten go back out and hang with Trunks a little more to lift his spirits.

“If you want to,” he heard Goku laugh nervously.

Vegeta couldn’t exactly hear what Goten said in reply, but he assumed by his tone that the boys got into some sort of fight.

He shook his head. It happens. They’d get over it in no time, he was sure.

He wasn’t trying to pry, but he couldn’t help but overhear the comforting sound of their muffled voices as the father and son talked to one another a little more. It was a long conversation, and Vegeta drew his knees up to his chest as he thought about how different their conversations seemed from the ones he has with Trunks. They weren’t shouting matches or sarcastic measures of communicating their wants around mountainous walls built up between them. Goku was speaking to his son kindly and listening to him in return whenever Goten had something to say. Goten was speaking calmly, with thoughtfulness and respect in his voice. The exchange sounded so civil- sweet, even- and understanding.

Some father _he_ is if even overhearing any semblance of a mild tempered conversation was an enigma to him.

 _‘Shit! Not now, damn it. Don’t think about that right now…’_ Vegeta told himself, and he stretched out again, attempting to straighten his posture into something more confident before Goku came back into the room. He pursed his lips as he went back to reading his book and tried to immerse himself into the pages.

It was some time before Goku came back into the room, which was fine with Vegeta, he needed the extra time to put himself back together and try to get out of his head.

Goku smiled sadly as he came to sit back down beside him. “Sorry about that,” he whispered, “Goten wanted to talk.”

Vegeta merely grunted in response and tried to pretend not to pay him any attention as he stared as a page in his book, but Goku’s soft, considerate eyes that he could see looking up at him in his peripheral were doing things to him.

“I brought some snacks,” Goku offered him.

Vegeta eyed the junk food the man had carried with him and placed on the bed. “Really?” he whispered, “That’s what you’re going to feed me? While I’m _stuck_ here in this damn _box_ of a room!”

“Shhuush!” Goku snickered, “I ordered a pizza, too. And yeah,” he kissed his cheek, “Looks like you’re stuck here.”

Vegeta tried to keep his face neutral, but he just couldn’t help but smirk a little at Goku’s doting actions.

The man muttered, “I’m gonna put on a movie and turn it up so we don’t have to whisper so much. What do you want to watch?”

“Something interesting since I’m being _forced_ to watch it.”

“Gosh, Vegeta, no one’s forcing you to stay in here!” Goku cracked a smile.

Vegeta swat him with his book, making a loud THWAP, before he thought better of the decision. Vegeta chucked the book as though it were the offender and it clunked on the ground. Both men looked at each other with wide eyes as they heard Goten’s voice.

“Dad? You alright?” Goku’s son hollered from the other room.

Vegeta buried his face in the blankets to keep from laughing, or dying, he wasn’t sure, as Goku answered, “Yeaahh! I’m okay! Haha!”

When Vegeta looked back up, his face was red from both embarrassment and trying not to laugh. Goku grinned and tackled him into the sheets.

“Stop!” Vegeta gasped.

Goku just smiled and hummed and kissed him, settling in between his legs. Vegeta wrapped himself around him and smiled into his kiss. Too soon, Goku sat back up and said, “I gotta put on a movie. Stay here while I go find them.”

“And where the hell else am I going to go?!” Vegeta replied playfully and watched Goku leave again.

When the pizza arrived, Goten was in his room and Goku snuck off to answer the door. He brought one pizza and a six pack of beers back with him into his bedroom, handing the items to Vegeta, before he went back out to let Goten know that their dinner was here. When he got back into his bedroom, he settled with Vegeta in the bed, and promised he wasn’t going to leave him in here alone again.

Vegeta was satisfied with that. He allowed Goku to lean back against his chest as they sat and ate and watched the movie they’d picked, something serious so that no dual laughter would be heard. Goku kept whispering to him the entire time anyways. Vegeta wasn’t half as bothered as he would have been if he were literally anyone else. He was much more interested in Kakarot than the movie, anyways.

After the movie ended, Goku checked to see if Goten was asleep. He wasn’t, so he put on another one. About halfway through it, Goku fell asleep. Vegeta only noticed because he felt the drool from the man’s mouth starting to drip onto his chest. Once he realized that was happening, he noticed that he could hear the other man snoring slightly. He must have just been tuning him out.

He snorted to himself, rolling his eyes. “Kakarot…?”

No answer. The man was definitely asleep.

Vegeta shifted out from underneath the man gently, laying his head down on a pillow with care. He cleared the bed of their plates and anything else they’d accumulated, stacking the items off to the side before he found the remote and turned the volume down on the TV. He wiped himself free of the wet spot Kakarot had left on his chest and tried his best to clean up the rest of their mess quietly. Once he was through, he turned back to Kakarot and slowly crawled into the bed, trying his best not to disturb him.

This wasn’t in the plan, either. Goku was supposed to sneak him out and drop him off at his car once Goten had fallen asleep. Vegeta was fairly sure the teen was asleep by now, but he couldn’t bear the idea of waking Kakarot up, not when he looked so peaceful.

Once settled beside him in the bed, facing him, he found himself smiling just looking at him. Kakarot was none the wiser so it was okay. Vegeta fell asleep soon after.

When Vegeta got home the next day, Trunks was sitting in his room playing video games. He walked by his son’s room and, for some reason, he decided to attempt a normal conversation.

“What are you up to?” he asked him.

“Nothing,” Trunks answered shortly.

“Any plans today?”

“Nope. Not yet,” Trunks said, never even looking over at him.

Vegeta paused but then tried again, “Is Goten coming over?”

Trunks sneered, “I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”

Vegeta gave up. He didn’t want to know what their fight was about, and he didn’t want Trunks thinking that he knew he’d gotten into a fight with him in the first place.

Vegeta started to head to his room, but Trunks asked him, “You take the day off or something?”

 _‘Shit. What day is it? Monday?’_ “Yes,” he answered shortly.

Trunks rolled his eyes, “Just now getting home, too, huh? That’s different… What’s it, like, 9:30 in the morning?”

“I’m a grown man, Trunks…” Vegeta replied. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Uh-huh,” Trunks muttered. Vegeta started to step away again until he heard his son mutter, “Do you ever stop lying?”

“Excuse me?” Vegeta retorted, eyes narrowing.

“Mom told me you quit Capsule Corp.,” His blue eyes left the screen to pierce into Vegeta’s dark gaze. “She said you got another job, but you’re not working, are you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Vegeta growled, feeling that only familiar sensation of a fight coming on. Damn it, he should have just walked right on by without saying anything like he usually does.

Trunks paused the game, “Why did you leave the company? Again. It’s like you don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of you.”

Vegeta fumed. It’s too early for this. “I have my reasons,” he told him.

“So you’re _not_ working?” Trunks asked.

“What does it matter?” Vegeta spat.

“It doesn’t, I guess,” he shrugged, “I mean, it’s nothing new. I just think it’s pathetic, that’s all.”

“What’s ‘pathetic’?” Vegeta wondered, taking the bait, ready to defend himself.

“That you couldn’t stand the thought of working for her,” Trunks quipped, tossing the controller to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest as he added, “I know that’s why you quit! Everything was going fine! You had the perfect set up! Work from home! Get to see Bra! Only go into the office every once in a while! What, did you not like Gohan or something? Did you hit on him and he turned you down? Oh my god. Don’t tell me _he’s_ the guy you’re seeing?! No _wonder_ you wouldn’t fucking tell me!”

“That’s _not_ it!” Vegeta barked, furious, “Don’t fucking assume that I left because of something so ridiculous! Gohan is a nonissue! He has nothing to do with it! And there was never _anything_ going on between us! Get that idea out of your head!”

“Well, I’m just _trying_ to understand why you do the things that you do! None of it makes any fucking sense, Dad! You’re suddenly in a good mood and then the next thing I know you’re quitting your job and back to lying about things again! Why can’t you just be honest with me about what’s going on?! Unless it’s because you have something to hide! Or you’re ashamed! What am I supposed to think?! I just don’t get what your problem is!”

“I told you not to worry about what’s going on in my life! It doesn’t matter why I left Capsule Corp.! I should have never accepted that job in the first place! _You_ should have never gotten your mother involved!”

“We would have gotten kicked out of this apartment a long time ago if Mom hadn’t stepped in!”

“I don’t need her OR you to take care of MY business!”

“Prove it!”

“You’re _seventeen_! What do you know?!”

Trunks cried, jumping out of bed, “I know that you’re a liar! You’ve never been honest with me about things! Ever! I feel like we’re complete strangers! Do you even tell your _boyfriend_ the truth?! Or do you lie to him about everything, too?!”

“Fuck you!” Vegeta spat. Instant regret washed over him. He’s never said that to him before. He didn’t _mean_ to say it to him now, but he couldn’t stand the truth in Trunks’ accusations.

The look on his son’s face faltered for a moment in surprise and a tinge of hurt, before he came forward angrily and yelled, “I can’t _wait_ to move out of here! I’m done trying to talk about things with you! I’m done trying to understand you! It’s not like you give a shit about me! I don’t know why Mom ever even gave you a chance in the first place! What the hell did she EVER see in you!”

“You don’t know a damn thing and me and your mother!”

“I don’t care! It didn’t work out, anyways, did it?! Big waste of time if you ask me! I hope you’re not lying about Gohan, either! Because I’ll find out! And I’m just going to assume you’re dating a fucking loser until I meet this guy for myself! And I’m telling Mom you lied to her, too! She’s gonna be pissed!”

“Don’t talk about things that aren’t any of your fucking business, Trunks!”

“How about you just don’t ever talk to me again!”

“Fine!”

“Great!” Trunks slammed the door in Vegeta’s face.

Rage swarmed inside of him, and Vegeta reached out to open the door again, but he resisted the urge. Swinging open that door to yell at his son some more wasn’t going to change anything. Initiating _another_ fight all over again wasn’t going to solve anything. Reopening those wounds wasn’t going to heal them.

He heard something hit the wall in Trunks’ room, followed by a growl of frustration from his son. Vegeta licked his lips as he realized that _he_ is the cause of _that_ kind of behavior, and he wondered if the damage he’s done in his son’s life was already too much to repair. He didn’t have the tools to fix that kind of wreckage, nor the ointment to sooth those kinds of injuries.

He stalked off to his room and shut the door, locking it behind him. He sat down on his bed and thought about how many more times he was going to have to go through this. How many more times he could mentally put up with this. How much longer was his son going to put up with _him_.

At least he didn’t have to lie to his son about being unemployed anymore. That’s one less person to lie to, two if Trunks actually does tell Bulma his little secret. Kakarot’s going to find out eventually, anyways, isn’t he?

Kakarot’s going to find out everything one way or another.

How much longer is Vegeta going to have to defend his own dignity? Hell, what dignity does he have left? Is it even worth defending, anymore?

Is it worth lying if it means that everything in his life is a lie, too?

The next week, Vegeta was back to being his irritable self. Coincidentally, Goku was back to being unavailable. He didn’t know where the hell the man disappeared to, going sometimes days without even so much as responding to texts, but he ignored his own annoyance at the fact.

He wasn’t really mad at him, anyways. He was mad at himself. And at Trunks. And at Bulma. And Yamcha. Trunks hadn’t exactly done anything wrong, and neither had Bulma or Yamcha, really, but since he’s had time to think about it and let it all fester, he was still just… pissed.

Pissed because Yamcha seemed great, and that was a frustrating thing to accept. Pissed because the next time he went to pick up Bra, Bulma truly did seem happy, and his uselessness in her life was disappointing to say the least. Pissed because Trunks somehow managed to cut him a little deeper with that last speech, and true to his word, they haven’t talked since. He’s in and out of the house all of the time. Goten was coming back over, though, and at least that seemed to still be going well, but what does that have to do with his own relationship with his son? Not a damn thing.

Another week crawled by slowly. It proved to be slightly more promising than the last, although Kakarot still hasn’t called for some odd reason. At least Vegeta has managed to set up some interviews for this week and the week after next. That was a good sign. It wasn’t helping his drinking, though. It wasn’t helping his dwindling bank account. It wasn’t helping his anger issues. It wasn’t helping his insecurities. It wasn’t helping his doubtfulness. It wasn’t helping the itch to fight out some of his frustrations, either.

When he interviewed on Thursday, he wasn’t feeling as confident as he usually does, and he was fairly certain it showed. He didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t shake this funk he’s gotten himself into. Trunks’ words echoed in his mind, and the only company his words had in their new abode were Vegeta’s already disgruntled thoughts.

Come Friday night, after having a few drinks and sitting around waiting for text that obviously wasn’t going to come, Vegeta decided he was tired of the crawling beneath his skin and that it’d be best if he actively sought out some sort of monetary relief.

He figured that old habits die hard, and so, slightly buzzed and without much further consideration, he got into his car and went to the fight club.

An hour later, now in the ring, tipsy, and poorly equipped and a head full of things that had nothing to do with his opponent, Vegeta was teetertottering a fine line. He was striking blows that were landing and doing some damage, but he was also taking too many hits himself.

The pain seared him.

He couldn’t get out of his own head.

At some point, he couldn’t even see straight.

He couldn’t think quick enough to catch up to the other man’s movements.

In a split second, he didn’t see the man’s punch coming, and he went down, hard, only to wake up what felt like a second later to find out that he’d lost.

He’d _lost_.

He’s _never_ lost.

Until _now_.

… To say that he was embarrassed, in good amount of pain, and _furious_ would be making a grave understatement.

He _knew_ he could have defeated him. Even the other fighter _told_ Vegeta he thought for _sure_ he was going to lose.

He told him that he just got in a lucky punch.

 _He_ _told him he could smell the liquor on him._

_He even asked him for a rematch._

Vegeta looked up and saw that the man’s face was fucked up and his body was already beginning to bruise in several places, but the man seemed more concerned about him. Medics turned to Vegeta and asked him if he was okay. _He doesn’t remember answering._ He just got up and headed for the lockers to grab his things.

He didn’t even look at himself in the mirror or bother cleaning up.

On his way back out, he felt dizzy. _Nauseous._ He saw the faces of the mob of people watching him but none of them stuck. The cops were stunned and stood back and away from him, some calling into their two-ways something Vegeta didn’t quite catch.

_The gamblers were shocked. The crowd was raving. They sounded like nothing but white noise, save for the few choice statements Vegeta could make out upon his leave:_

_“He_ never _loses!!”_

_“Tough shit, old man, time to give it up.”_

_“Well, that’s the last of that.”_

_“I just lost my fucking rent on this guy! Is he fucking serious?!”_

_“I don’t care if he’s drunk- shouldn’t have stepped into that ring!”_

_“It’s over buddy!! Don’t quit your day job!”_

_“Vegeta, you alright? Can’t believe you let that kid clown you!”_

_“You’re washed up! Should have quit years ago!”_

Vegeta took in a breath of the fresh night air only to stumble off the step of the sidewalk as he headed towards his car. He got in. He drove home. By the time he got home the adrenalin was wearing off, but he was still shaking all over. He got upstairs, opened the door, and hit the ground, landing on knees first, then down to his hands. He felt sick, but he managed to stand back up. He made it to the kitchen, where he chugged a bottle of water. Then he proceeded over to the sink to throw up everything in his system.

 _Did he forget to eat?_ Because nothing but liquid was coming out.

He made his way to his bedroom, where he turned on the shower, and waited for the water to adjust to at least lukewarm.

_He still couldn’t look at himself._

He rinsed off in silence. Even his own thoughts had nothing to say for once. The only sound in his ears or inside of his head was the sloshing of the water against the walls and the constant run of the showerhead pouring over him.

When he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth with his back turned to the mirror, spitting once, and avoiding eye contact with himself before he turned away and slinked into bed. And then he slept.

When he woke up the next morning, he rolled over, and went back to sleep.

When he woke up again, it was the evening time, and he got up and went to the bathroom. He mindlessly headed to the kitchen to grab some water, and then he went back to his room, and went straight back to sleep.

A day later he was up and moving again, but by no means was he in a good mood or fairing any better physically. He managed to eat enough to survive, but he hardly had an appetite. His phone battery had long since died, and he didn’t even bother to plug it in and turn it on again. He was still hungover. He was still sore. He was still _embarrassed and pissed_.

He was avoiding Trunks seeing him at all costs, so whenever he heard him coming into the house Vegeta headed into his room if he wasn’t in it already, showing nothing but his back to him, which seemed just fine to his son; they still weren’t talking.

He wasn’t just avoiding Trunks. He was avoiding everybody and everything. At some point he’d turned his phone on to see if _maybe_ Kakarot had called, but he hadn’t, and Vegeta didn’t know why he even bothered to check.

It was better that he hadn’t, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to face him in his current state as it is.

He turned his phone back off.

A week passed. By the time the next Friday rolled around, Vegeta was at the point where he could finally stomach looking at himself again. Barely. Now he loathed everything he saw all the more, and not just the injuries that still lingered, reminding him of his failure- his utter defeat, physical and otherwise- but everything; _inside and out._ He imagined anything he even so much as _touched_ to be laced with the promise of certain inevitable destruction at this point. He could hardly even work out any of his frustrations he was so wound up, so he spent most of the day like he has been for a whole week now, just sitting and pondering his own existence.

Later, in the evening time, he heard knocking at the front door. Vegeta assumed that it was Goten since Trunks answered it fairly quickly. He heard voices talking, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. He didn’t care to try. A few minutes later, he heard the front door shut, and then there was silence. Trunks must have left.

Vegeta got up from his now permanently dented, body-shaped spot on his bed and headed to the door of his bedroom to leave his room for the first time all day. He needed to try and find something to eat. Or drink.

He mentally told himself that he has two days to get himself together. Two days to put this behind him. Two days before his interview on Monday where he’d have to schmooze his way into landing the job on _this_ fucking interview or he thought he might just lose it entirely. He hoped his injuries would be gone by then.

He opened his door and blinked in surprise, looking up with wide eyes. Kakarot was standing before him, his hand raised, just about to knock.

“Hey, Vegeta,” he smiled, but his smile faltered quickly as he looked Vegeta over.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Vegeta balked in disbelief.

“… What happened to you?” Goku asked, ignoring his question as he reached out to touch his face. Concern marred Goku’s unblemished features while the evidence of Vegeta’s shame still resigned on his.

“What happened to _you_?” Vegeta rebutted, brushing past him, and avoiding his touch. He couldn’t stand looking into his eyes. He felt exposed under that gaze. It almost felt like he was meeting him all over again.

“I’ve tried to call you for three days. I tried to text you before that.”

Vegeta ignored him. He couldn’t deal with him, not unless he wanted to face himself. He headed for the kitchen. Once there he looked inside of his fridge. It was empty.

“Vegeta…” Goku said, having followed him. He watched him closely and Vegeta tensed under his gaze. He offered sweetly, “You hungry? Come on, I’ll take you out.”

“No,” Vegeta growled, slamming the fridge shut. The whole thing rattled. He didn’t care if it broke! It was useless to him. There wasn’t even a damn beer in there.

“Okay, then let’s order in,” Goku suggested, somehow completely ignoring his foul mood.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Vegeta snapped, thinking, _‘I can’t handle seeing you right now!’_

“The boys just left,” the man replied calmly, “They won’t be back for a while…”

“And you just _stayed_?! _Again?!_ You can’t keep doing that!” Vegeta cried, tired of holding it all in. His own voice sounded strange to him after not using it for so long. Exhausting himself, he added, emotional and unsteady, “How do they know you’re not still here?! How do they know you didn’t leave the _last time you did this?!_ ”

“I—”

“I don’t want to see you! Where the hell have you been?! Who the hell do you think you are, Kakarot?!”

“Vegeta, please, take it easy,” Goku frowned at him, his eyes full of concern.

His concern disgusted Vegeta. He commanded, shaking, “Get out of my fucking house!”

Goku’s frown turned into a stern pout, and he rebutted, “Did something happen?”

“Don’t ask about my private life!” Vegeta growled, heading past him again, going back to his bedroom to look for his shoes. “I told you to stay out of my business!”

Goku followed him persistently, “You’re not yourself today… And that’s okay…” he muttered gently, “But I wish you would at least tell me what’s going on. Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

“ _You tell_ me _what’s going on!_ ” Vegeta commanded, stepping into his boots, and grabbing his keys. “‘Not myself’,” he muttered, mocking, snarling, “Why haven’t _I_ answered the phone?!” he scowled. He picked his phone up, but he didn’t know why he did, it was dead. He tossed it onto the bed and then he grabbed his wallet, shoving it in his jeans pocket.

“Is this what Bulma was talking about?”

Vegeta turned to him at that and snapped, “ _What was Bulma talking about?!_ ”

“The fights… The one’s that she said you enter… Last time I saw you scuffed up like this… Is that what you’d been doing?”

“What the hell do you care?” Vegeta argued uselessly. He _wanted_ to tell him everything but…

“I _care_ ,” Goku told him, blocking him from leaving his bedroom.

… He didn’t know if he could. “Don’t bother!” Vegeta exclaimed, muscling his way around him.

Goku wasn’t having it. He grabbed onto his arm and pulled him closer, attempting to bring him into a hug. Vegeta fought it at first, but then conceded, his body wracking with emotion. Oh, how he wanted to tell him everything…

Goku mumbled into his hair, “We don’t have to talk about it right now, Vegeta. Let’s just go out to eat. You and me. Wherever you want. It’ll be nice. I’ve missed you.”

“You’ve missed me?!” Vegeta argued, coming back to himself and shoving him away. He couldn’t take it anymore. Goku’s absence had actually bothered him and his own lies were compounding.

He didn’t know why he was still doing this with him when his lies are all Goku really knows about him.

He shouted, “You don’t know me, Kakarot!”

“Ve—”

“Damn it! Get the hell away from me! Why can’t you just listen to me?!”

“You’re not saying anything…” Goku countered, confusion on his brow.

“You want me to talk?!” Vegeta asked incredulously. It was so tempting, but…

“Yes…”

… He didn’t want to. He didn’t want it to end. He shouted, “I’m not in the mood for you!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Leave me alone!”

If he keeps going like this it’s going to end anyways, isn’t it?

“Vegeta,” Goku tried again, changing his tone to something serious and expectant, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Vegeta huffed and turned away, but then he turned back and shouted, “What’s wrong?! What’s _wrong_?!” He knew he should tell him. He knew he should tell him everything, but… He took a deep breath, shaking his head, and then he said, “Everything is wrong, Kakarot.” … It just isn’t that easy.

“Oh, Vegeta,” the man smiled, “You’re just hungry!”

“No! That’s _you_ who somehow equates emotions to whether or not you’ve eaten recently! I’m not _you_! I’m not being dramatic!”

Goku sighed but nodded and said, “Okay, well, can you tell me at least _one_ of the things that are bothering you? And I do think food makes things better…”

He looked into the man’s eyes, going from one to the next, and he realized that he couldn’t lie to him anymore. He’s just too _sweet_. Too honest and kind. It isn’t fair to either of them. Goku doesn’t _deserve_ to be lied to, and Vegeta was finally tired of living in denial.

Starting with the easiest thing to admit first and jumping into the well of his problems without looking first to see how far down he was going to go, he uttered, “I’m not working right now, Kakarot. I have an interview on Monday and I’m _not_ prepared for it. I already screwed several up, the few I’ve gotten out of the _dozens_ of places I’ve applied to…”

“Huh?” Goku shook his head, “What happened to your job at Capsule Corp.?”

“I quit,” He stated numbly, “I don’t know how you haven’t noticed…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Goku reached out to try to hold him again, and he hummed a small, gently nudging, “Hm?” as he connected his hand with his arm, where he gently rubbed Vegeta’s elbow.

Vegeta jerked free of his hold quickly and said, narrowing his gaze at him, “That’s not all.” He frowned. He could do this. He _should_ do this. He _needed to do this._ He glowered as he explained, “I haven’t talked to my son in weeks. And since it’s written all over my face and you brought it up as the _first_ _thing_ out of your mouth when you saw me this evening, yes, I fight. In a fight club. That’s where these bruises came from. Same as the last time. But the last time I punched my mirror, too. I… I’m not going back to the fight club anymore, though. It’s useless. _That was the_ _last time_ —”

Goku shifted a little and said, “It’s not my business what you do when it comes to things like that, I guess, but I don’t understand. You could have told me about that when I asked you before…”

“Oh yes, sure, I _could_ have. But I’m glad I didn’t.”

Goku’s brows dipped and he cocked his head to the side before he asked, “Why?”

Vegeta’s scoffed, “What’s a fight club to a martial arts tournament?”

“Ahh, come on, that’s not a big deal. Besides, I’m sure you just didn’t know about the martial arts tournament and—”

“Stop making excuses for me and don’t mock me, Kakarot!”

“I’m not! Not at all!” Goku shook his head and smiled down at him, “Why would you even fight at a ‘fight club’ anyways? Seems kind of silly,” he chuckled a little at the last part, possibly trying to ease some of the tension between them.

It didn’t work. The last few pieces of Vegeta’s restraints were breaking and suddenly he was screaming at him, “THE MONEY, KAKAROT! _I fought for the fucking money!_ ”

“Oh… Okay…”

Any hope Vegeta had left to remain silent crumbled as his eyes met with the other man’s wholesome gaze. Swallowing, he accepted the fate of his confessions, took a deep breath, and then spouted off his explanation, “I _lost_ at the fight club the other night, Kakarot. _I’ve_ never _lost. I don’t lose!_ I’ve been fighting in fight clubs around this city and the next since I was _younger than Goten_ , and I know you don’t understand, _Champion_ , but I needed the money. And I needed to do it for my pride. And to help control my _anger_.

“I can tell by the look on your face you don’t get it. I knew you wouldn’t. I knew you couldn’t possibly understand.”

Goku said, “How can you say that? You’re not really giving me much of a chance to understand…”

Vegeta sneered and expounded, “The only reason I ever went to college was to give myself an opportunity to _earn_ the money to never have to fight in those places again, but it turns out _I’m not cut out for the corporate world_. I’m not cut out for much of anything if it involves other people. Even the things I am good at, I’m still only second best.”

“Vegeta…”

“Don’t look at me like that! Don’t _talk_ to me like that!”

“Everyone loses sometimes, Vegeta.”

“It’s not just _that_! It’s _everything_!”

“ _What’s_ ‘everything’? Whatever’s going on with you and Trunks?”

He turned away from him and seethed, “Feh! You don’t have _any_ idea—!”

“Then _talk_ to me,” Goku tried again, never even flinching.

Vegeta shook his head, “You don’t want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking, Kakarot.”

“It’s okay, Vegeta… You can tell me…”

“Fine!” Vegeta said, his voice gravelly in its baritone, nearly wavering in his uncertainty. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know how, but somehow, someway, he opened up, and he didn’t hold back, “You want to know everything? Here it is- _Everything_ …”

Kakarot waited.

“… My mother died when I was young, and my father walked out on me and my younger brother when I was still just a kid. I’ve never seen my father since and it haunts me. My younger brother and I went from orphanage to orphanage. I _tried_ to take care of him and keep from harm, but I couldn’t do it. He ended up dying at a very young age from a pneumonia. He was too weak to fight it and by the time I took him to the hospital it was too late. I was scared to take him earlier because I didn’t have the money. I was put back into the system after that, but it was terrible, so I ran away and lived on the streets for a long time. I _barely_ got my GED because my life circumstances demanded that I do _something_ with my time in order to _eat_ and _survive_.

“I _tried_ to better myself, Kakarot. I _tried_ to walk away from all of that, but I… What I’m saying is that I’m fucked up… Is that what you wanted to know?”

“That’s not true,” Goku rejected.

“What would you know? We haven’t even known each other for a year, Kakarot and I’ve been keeping everything from you on purpose.”

“I can just tell, Vegeta,” Goku replied, eyes narrowing sharply. He reached out for him again.

Vegeta pulled away and told him, “No. Your instincts are wrong, I assure you, and for once I’m going to tell you _exactly_ why I know that and for once I want you to just listen.”

Goku’s mouth went to a straight line and he stood tall and still before him, prepared to do as Vegeta requested.

Vegeta told him, “I’ve been in denial for so long, and I’m tired of it. I can’t lie to you or myself anymore. So, I’ll start telling the truth by admitting that I’m a terrible father. I’m sure Trunks has said so, and I’m sure you just thought he was exaggerating, but it’s true. I realized too late that I didn’t know how to be a father because I never had one growing up,” he shuddered, his thoughts bouncing around in his head, “I didn’t know how to be a husband, either, because I’ve never seen a marriage actually work,” he huffed hysterically, “I’ve been the ‘other man’ is many marriages out there. Men and women alike. I’m skeptical of relationships to say the least.

“Hell, I married a woman, and I am not even _into_ women. I _knew_ that I was making a mistake. I should have never lied to Bulma, but I thought I was doing the right thing by her. I was _trying_ to do the right thing after leading her on in the first place, and I care for her, I love her, but I just couldn’t love her like _that_.

“I have never been able to walk away from the fight-scene because _it’s all I’ve ever known._ I’ve never been able to _rely_ on anything else. And I can’t _change_ , Kakarot. If I could, I would have done it for my kids a long time ago.

Goku’s silence egged him on.

Vegeta raised his eyes to him and wondered, “Do you have any idea what’s it’s like for your son to hate you so much because he _knows_ that he was only born because of your own mistakes? Your own self- _denial_? He’s not a mistake, of course, and that’s not the only reason he’s mad at me. He hates me because I’m an asshole. Everyone knows it. Why you keep denying it, I’ll never understand.

“Don’t, Kakarot. Don’t speak… Just… Listen…

“Why do you think I keep trying to keep us a secret? Why do you think I kept trying to push you away?! Because I _know_ it’s not going to last. You can’t love me. I’m _unlovable_. It’s impossible. I can’t even love myself. I can’t even be _honest_ _with_ _myself_ when I look into a fucking mirror.

“Yes, I know, it’s pathetic, but I don’t want your fucking pity! Do you understand me?!

“When I met you, I was in between jobs and struggling to get by all because I had made the mistake of cheating on my ex after I merged all of my money with hers when I knew damn well I should have never married her in the first place. I hadn’t been working the whole time Trunks and Bra were growing up because I _wanted_ to _try_ to be a father. But I’m also selfish- in case you haven’t noticed- and I couldn’t keep my dick to myself because I refused to admit that I’m gay for _years_ because of the trouble it caused me as a teenager.

“Everything that I had once worked so hard to gain. Everything that I had once tried so hard to overcome. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it all meant nothing. I lost it all anyways, a long time ago. My stubborn pride is the only thing that’s even kept me going at all. That, and fighting through the pain, confusion, and doubt…”

Vegeta looked away, talking mostly to himself, “My son can barely stand me. I hardly even know my daughter. Now _she_ has a _new_ father figure in her life, and she doesn’t need me anymore. And Bulma’s moving on just fine, I always knew she would. Hell, she is nine-tenths of the way towards never wanting to see me again and I don’t blame her. I’ve been thinking about leaving Trunks and Bra and Bulma and all of this behind for _years_. They’d be so much better off without me. Why I’ve even stuck around this long, I have no idea.

“I’ve been trying to supplicate my shortcomings with fighting and booze and one-night stands because I don’t know _how_ to remedy the situation any other way. I don’t _how_ to hold my tongue long enough to keep a job, qualified and capable or not. My _last_ ex and I broke up because I _refused_ to open up to him or bring him around my family, among other things.

“And while I’m being honest, as far as the ‘bad reputation’ I told you about, trust me, I wasn’t kidding. Aside from the fact that I have been arrested on numerous occasions for numerous different offenses, including but not limited to public intoxication, drunk driving, and disorderly conduct, I’m also a man-whore. Ask around and you’ll find out that I am not a very well-liked man in this city. My only saving grace is that there are twice as many people here as the city that I’m from, and so it’d be nearly impossible for me to piss off _everyone._ But I’ve managed to do a pretty good job of gaining a bad reputation, regardless.

“People either know me because they’ve heard of me, they’ve been with me, or they know someone who has. Ask Gohan, he’s heard all about it. His wife, your daughter in law, she can’t _stand_ me. Ask _Bulma_ , she’ll tell you. I _had_ to leave Capsule Corp., not only because it was dangerous for me to work alongside of Gohan with the rumor mill running the way that it does, but because let’s fucking face it, working for your ex-wife is pretty damn pathetic. I’ve fucked up her life enough as it is. She doesn’t need me there running off the new man in her life if it means that she might finally get some happiness for once.

“I never hit on Gohan by the way, I wouldn’t do that, he’s too young and I swore off married men a long time ago. I’ve stayed true to my word to that as far as my knowledge, regardless of what Trunks thinks or what he might have mentioned.

“And just so _we’re_ clear, I _am_ afraid. I’m afraid of actually caring for someone and being responsible for them. Much less someone who will _never_ care for me back. I’ve never even let it get that far before. And I’m afraid of wasting your time and mine when I’ve known from the very beginning that it was only a matter of time before you decided that this isn’t worth the fight. I’m afraid of coming out to the public, and _especially to our families_ , as being in a relationship with a man when I could have just saved everyone a lot of trouble by never marrying a woman in the first place. And I’m afraid of the looks on your son’s faces when they hear that you made the stupid mistake of choosing _me_. Trunks will never approve. Not because of you, but because of _me_.

“ _You_ could be with anyone. But not _me_. People would doubt my integrity if this ever got out, and they’ll mock your foolishness for trusting me. But I have been faithful to you… I _can_ be faithful, I just…

“You were married once, too, Kakarot. What changed for you? Have you never thought of any of this? Does it not bother you? What the hell is wrong with you?! Why the hell would you choose _me?!_

“Let me be perfectly clear: _this_ is _me_ , Kakarot! This angry, temperamental, prideful, selfish person you see in front of you right now- this is what you get! I told you, I’m not a good person! I’m just _not_.

“Why should we waste our time with a relationship when we both know that it’s not going to last? I don’t even know why I’m asking you that question. You’re probably disgusted with me by now. Like my father must have been. Like my son has become. And just like Bulma and my daughter will surely be if I continue to stick around…

“And _you_ …? You’re just too… _good_ for me. I’ve been so jealous of you. You and you’re perfect relationship with your sons. Your jobs. Your upstanding reputation. Your stability. You’re kindness, to a fault! You were cheated out of your marriage, Kakarot, and I hate that for you. _You_ _are_ _everything that I am not._ And it doesn’t matter that I’m in love with you because I…” Vegeta choked, “I…” he put his hand over his mouth. “I think you should leave…” he muttered, and the well of words ran dry with that as Vegeta realized that he just hit the very bottom. He’d told him _everything_. Things he never even told Bulma. Things he hardly even told himself.

He didn’t feel angry anymore. He felt… nothing.

Goku stood before him, mouth agape.

“Go. Now,” Vegeta said, turning from him, “I need to be alone.”

“Vegeta…” Goku muttered softly, coming forward.

“I need you to leave,” Vegeta answered, and then he suddenly turned back to him and asked, “Why have you been toying with me like this, Kakarot?”

“What do you mean?” Goku asked quietly.

Glaring, Vegeta said, “Did someone put you up to this?”

“Huh?!”

He knew it was a silly question, still, he examined him as though he were nothing more than an intricate painting as he said, “That’s the only thing that could possibly make sense. Either that or this is just karma’s way of getting back at me for all of the mistakes I’ve made in my life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You disappear all the time and you only come to see me when it’s convenient for you. Seems a lot like something I would do to someone I don’t really care about.”

“That’s not it at all…” Goku spoke quietly.

“I only put up with it because it was _you_ ,” blinking, processing, Vegeta admitted again, “And I probably would have continued to put up with it until you decided to move on.” Vegeta’s gaze was far away and yet scrutinizing as he told him, “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I fell for you, like a fucking fool.”

“Vegeta… I love you, too—”

“Bullshit. What’s in it for you, Kakarot? Why should I believe it’s even _possible_ …?”

“I know that I’ve been absent, but I…” Goku struggled to explain himself. He licked his lips as he gave up and told him, “It’s a long story.”

Vegeta scoffed, “After everything that I just told you… That’s all you have to say? It’s a long story?”

Goku’s brows knit but all he said was, “It’s a lot to explain.”

Vegeta caught his gaze and tried to question him again, asking, “You can’t even tell me where you’ve been? Can you tell me what you’re thinking right now?” He waited. “Can you tell me why you were ever interested in me to begin with? Can you tell me what you _like_ about me? Can you tell me _any redeeming_ quality you find in me at all? Can you tell me about your past? Or _anything_ about yourself for that matter? What’s your favorite color, Kakarot?” He paused again.

Goku took a deep steadying breath and said, “I can answer all of those things. I _want_ to answer all of those things, but I…”

Vegeta shook his head at him as Goku was clearly still hesitating. Vegeta huffed, “And you want honesty? You want a _relationship_? With _me_? No, you don’t. Just go, Kakarot.”

“Vegeta, I— Listen, I—”

Vegeta turned and walked down the hall to the front door. He opened it and waited, not even bothering to look at the other man.

Goku hesitated but stepped forward, head lowered.

“I’m leaving. I’m hungry and I want to get out of this house. Apartment. Whatever.”

Goku stopped in front of him and muttered, “I can explain, Vegeta…” he reached up to touch his face, but Vegeta pulled away. Goku told him, “Please… Believe me. I need you to understand that I’m not what you think—”

“Oh?” Vegeta quirked a brow, meeting his gaze again, “Is that supposed to _scare_ me? Why don’t you call me when you finally decide you’re ready to return the favor and be honest by telling me everything you think _I_ don’t want to hear. And don’t worry; I won’t hold my breath. Now get out of my house, I have to go.”

Goku turned away and stepped outside. Vegeta followed him out and locked the door behind them.

They were both silent on the way to their cars, until Goku finally called out after him. He promised, “I’ll call you soon, okay?”

Vegeta ignored him. He got into his car, turned the engine on, and drove off.


	18. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually do this... but I have a trigger warning--- nothing is described in much detail--- but this is the chapter the Tragedy tag was referring to. No death! Full recovery! Don't worry! And as always, enjoy...

18

Vegeta’s conversation with Kakarot was sobering. Mentally he felt as though he’d been baptized in sterilizing solution. It hadn’t been much of a _conversation_ at all, more like a series of confessions, coupled with realizations, mixed with hard truths he couldn’t believe he’d let spew from his mouth, and finalized with an inescapable dousing of reality.

He didn’t know why saying it all out loud had hit him so differently. None of that information was new to him. Was it really just that he’d never shared it with someone? And why he told _Kakarot_ all of those things, he’d never know.

Vegeta had gone to dinner that night alone, just as he’d said he would, and when he sat down the first thing that he did was order a drink. He thought he was going to pound it down before ordering another, and then another, but he wound up nursing just that one for the duration of his meal. He didn’t even finish it. In fact, he hardly touched his food, too.

When he left the restaurant, he didn’t want to go out to get his mind off things for once. He didn’t want to go to the bar. He didn’t want to stop somewhere and get a six-pack. He didn’t want to go to the liquor store even. No amount of alcohol was going to change anything, and it was nothing but a time waster as it is.

For the first time in a long time Vegeta was doing some serious thinking and he didn’t want anything to disturb him, disrupt him, or distract him. He didn’t _need_ anything to keep him from thinking about things anymore because he really _is_ tired of pacifying the issues in his life. He’s tired of his own indecision.

He’s been straddling the line between staying and going for too damn long. What he really needs to do is decide one way or another. It’s a decision he’s been putting off for too long to make under any sort of irrational disposition, though. So, he was going to wait for a sign.

He’d always trusted his gut when he was a younger man. Ironic, how Kakarot’s statements of “just knowing” also suited to Vegeta’s personal ideology, and yet how differently the two men think. Nevertheless, Vegeta was of the opinion that if certain things are supposed to go a certain way, then surely there will be some sort of nudge here, or block there, in one direction or another.

Now, instead of avoiding the problem, he was facing it head on.

He figured that if he truly wants to leave- if that _really is_ the best choice- then he was going to give it just a little more time. After all, if he _did_ leave, he wasn’t going to do it until Trunks moves out, and that time was coming soon. It would only be a little more than a month from now, and Trunks would be off to college, and then Vegeta could quietly sneak away, never to be seen or heard from again, should it come down to that.

Vegeta mused over this, as well as many other things, (Kakarot, his lack of work, his daughter…) all weekend, never touching any alcohol, and finally settling back into a somewhat normal routine.

The interview he’d had on that Monday after his fight with Goku was pointless. He shouldn’t even have wasted his effort in showing up. The only part about it that bothered him more than not getting the job was the fact that he’d seen Robert at one of the buildings nearby. He wondered what the hell the man was doing there, but he wasn’t about to stop and talk to him.

Of course, the world didn’t stop spinning on account of his world falling apart. It’s now July, and Goku hasn’t called like he said he would, and Trunks hasn’t broken his oath of silence, and Vegeta _still_ can’t find a job.

Vegeta didn’t want to conclude yet that what he’s been putting off for so long was the answer to all of his problems, but he was beginning to think that there was no way around it. It was inevitable. He spent his time making silent, secret plans, just mental logs in his mind, really, of where he would go when he left and how much of his things he would take with him. What would be his last words to his son, his daughter, and Bulma? Would he even bother telling Kakarot goodbye? Could he bear it if he didn’t see the man one last time?

He wasn’t getting very many answers to those questions, but in the meantime, he wouldn’t give up just yet. He continued to apply to multiple places, and more than that, he intended to at least see his precious family a few more times.

Kakarot was another issue entirely, the man said that he would call him, and Vegeta would be damned if he let his pride go entirely and gave in to call him first.

He headed over to Capsule Corp. on one random, not so special day, with the intention of taking out his little girl. Bulma seemed irritated when he got there, but then again, that wasn’t such a strange thing. She’s often busy, working much too hard for someone as powerful and successful as herself. Vegeta admired her for it. He always had. He ignored her bad mood and took Bra out without much talk with her mother.

His time with his daughter had been nice, but Vegeta was disturbed by something he didn’t foresee happening so soon: Bra’s new apparent obsession with Yamcha. The man’s name was in almost every other sentence the little girl uttered. Vegeta despised it. He didn’t know how the man managed to somehow become her new favorite person, but he knew exactly why it bothered him.

Damn that man if anything ever comes between him and Bulma, not because of Bulma’s heartache, but because of Bra’s. He didn’t want to see his daughter getting hurt.

It was one thing for her to think highly of him, Vegeta was sort of glad that she likes him so much, but he knew that it would be hard and confusing for her if Yamcha and Bulma ever split up, and he didn’t want to think about his daughter having to go through something like that. Never mind the fact that he was thinking of leaving himself. That was a whole separate issue with its own separate list on questions and doubts.

He wondered if he would try to keep in touch with her in some way. He could always send an unmarked gift, but would he? Should he? How much would it hurt her if he left, anyways? Would it? Or would it be worse if he stayed? That’s the real question at hand and he still wasn’t sure.

When he dropped Bra back off at Capsule Corp., Bulma was waiting for them, smoking a cigarette in the main room of their mansion, a glass on wine sitting on the table beside her. She said hello to Bra in a mode that seemed rather short for the normally embracing woman, and Vegeta wondered if her poor mood from earlier was still lingering even after work hours.

The fiery woman dismissed their child, telling her to ready herself for bed. Bra obeyed, and then Bulma’s sky blue eyes turned to peer deeply at Vegeta. Vegeta knows that look.

Great. She’s pissed at him about something. If Vegeta had a guess, he could probably think of what it is. Fucking Trunks always running his mouth.

“Why don’t you just come out with it already, I don’t have all night,” Vegeta told her pointedly.

“Oh?” she answered, her biting voice full of bitterness, “I think you _do_ have all night, Vegeta. And _all day_ tomorrow. And the next day, for that matter. _And_ the day after _that_!”

Vegeta knew a woman scorned when he saw one. He remained silent.

“You _lied_ to me about having a job!”

His only reaction was crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about how he wanted to react, instead of going into his usual defense-mode of throwing something back at her. That was his standard way of handling these types of things. This was going to be… new.

“You told me that you already had something lined up! And I _believed_ you!” she added as she glowered at him. “What the hell is your problem, Vegeta?! Are we not _good_ enough for you?! Is Capsule Corp. just a _joke_ to you?!”

Vegeta shook his head, uninterested in having this conversation. Robert came to mind, though, and so his only reply was, “Is Capsule Corp. a joke to some of your other employees?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Well, he thought he was going to try and be more direct instead of changing the topic, but his curiosity on the matter was a good enough reason for him to pursue the subject. He said, “I saw Mr. Sharp downtown a couple of weeks ago. He was at another corporate office building, though I can’t imagine why he’d be there.”

Bulma huffed and told him, “Big deal, Vegeta. I’m not concerned about that right now.”

“No? Probably because you’re already aware of his actions, aren’t you?”

“What the hell do you care?”

Vegeta argued, “What is he doing for you here, Bulma?”

She thought on it for a moment before she confessed, annoyance lacing her every word, “If it makes you feel any better, I am well aware of Robert’s whereabouts! It’s nothing for you to concern yourself over, but I’ll tell you anyways, since you’re being so damn nosy! I brought Robert on because he has connections with other businesses for products that I might want to purchase. There’s a possibility that Capsule Corp. might be able to do a collaboration with some of them in the future. I don’t have the time to negotiate everything myself and it’s always good to have a man on the inside! If he has the connections and they have the quality product, I want my hands on them! So, he reports back to me on it. We’re trying to negotiate a deal right now. When he’s working with Gohan, Gohan tells him the problems he’s having, and Robert is there to figure out the solution in a costly manner. There, are you satisfied?”

“Hardly,” Vegeta answered, unimpressed. Bulma might have been confident in him and her choices, but Vegeta was still suspicious of the man.

“Whatever! Robert is not what I want to discuss with you and you’re **not** going to change the subject on me so easily! We’re not done talking about _you_ and _you_ have some explaining to do!”

“You and Trunks communicate so well on matters that have nothing to do with yourselves, I figured I’d just let him do all of my explaining for me.”

“Nothing to—?! This has _everything to do with me and your son!_ And I’m _glad_ he tells me things! You sure as hell won’t! How dare you lead me to believe that you were quitting because you’d found something else?! Why couldn’t you just be honest with me and tell me that you didn’t want to work here?!”

“I told you I didn’t want to work here to begin with.”

“Why the hell not?!” She yelled, ashing her cigarette as she shook her head at her ex-husband and his foolish, arrogant ways, “Give me _one_ good reason why you couldn’t just stay and work here, Vegeta?”

“I have numerous reasons that are plenty good enough for me and since I don’t work for you, and I am not a part of this place any longer, I don’t have to answer to you.”

“That’s not good enough, Vegeta! It’s bullshit at best! Don’t you dare try to give me that runaround, garbage remark! I deserve a straight answer!”

Vegeta’s face tensed. This was his chance to try again.

“I’m so sick and tired and _fed up_ with your irresponsibility! This is so immature of you! Do you even realize how pigheaded you’re being?! Do you not care about what happens to you?!”

Thinking back on his confessions to Kakarot, Vegeta took a deep breath and explained, without really going into much detail, “If you stopped throwing names and placing blame on me for one second, then I think you could figure out all on your own exactly why I left. I don’t know why you need me to say it.”

That was surprisingly good of him to admit, but he knew it still wasn’t enough.

Bulma’s eyes widened at that, and she stood for a second in silence before him, no doubt wondering if her suspicions would be well-received if she spoke them. 

Vegeta might not get that many more chances to do this… He offered, “But if you insist, and if it will ease your busy mind, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m listening…” she replied, skeptical and eyeing him strangely.

Vegeta’s lips quirked for just a moment as he hesitated, but then he committed and said, “I left because it was the right thing to do.”

Her disappointment in his answer was evident as she began to argue, “Oh, please—”

“It was the right thing to do,” Vegeta reiterated, “For everyone involved, including Yamcha and Gohan.”

“Gohan?” Bulma paused, considering his words. She wondered, “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.”

“Do you mean that you—”

“No,” he cut her off, shaking his head curtly, “No, and neither did he, but that’s the last thing he needs.”

Bulma sighed and turned around to grab her wine, “Give me just a minute to let that sink in, Vegeta,” she said and then she took a sip. Glaring at him and clearly not buying his line, she remarked, “You mean to tell me… That you left… because you didn’t want people to start up any talk about you and Gohan… for _Gohan’s_ sake?” she shook her head, “No, I don’t believe that. I _can’t_ believe that you would even _consider_ leaving for something as silly as that, Vegeta. You’re gonna have to try harder, bub.”

“Silly?” Vegeta asked, “I don’t think that a young man’s reputation is silly. People’s meaningless chatter is certainly ridiculous and annoying, but I don’t believe for one minute that their _talk_ is worth the sacrifice of a lifetime of achievements. Or the promise of new ones. I’ve already ruined my reputation. There’s no sense in dragging his down, too, unfounded or not.”

Bulma smiled, “I knew you’d like him.”

Vegeta shrugged, “It’s not so much my like of him as it is my own invaluable understanding of the possible repercussions involved.”

She pulled a drag on her cigarette one last time before putting it out and said, “You always did think highly of yourself. So, what, you think that if you pissed off the wrong person, you might potentially jeopardize Gohan’s future, whether the rumors were true or not? I guess you’d know a thing or two about that happening, but, and forgive me for being so blunt, since when did you start caring for other people so damn much?”

“Since you did,” he told her blatantly.

This conversation was running much more smoothly than he thought. Maybe he should have tried this with her to begin with… Besides, the shock on her face was well worth that admonition.

Still doubtful, she exclaimed, “So what does Yamcha have to do with it, exactly?” she laughed, “I never thought _this_ would be your reaction to me dating someone else.”

Calmly, Vegeta replied, “What did you think I was going to do, Bulma? Try to break you two apart? Try to run him off?”

“I don’t know…” she muttered, “Yeah. Kind of, yes.”

Slowly, considerately, he retorted, the words feeling heavy in his mouth from being on the tip of his tongue for so long, “I have no reason to destroy your happiness. I’ve never wanted anything else for you.”

Bulma didn’t know what to say to that. It was almost as though she couldn’t believe she was even hearing him say such a thing. She came back to herself fairly quickly though, and wondered, all business because she didn’t know how else to be with him during a conversation like this, it happened so seldomly, “So, what are you going to do? I assume you’ve been looking for something else?”

“That’s not your concern.”

She gave him a tired look and rebutted, “You always say that, but when are you going to realize that _your_ wellbeing _is_ my concern? It concerns Trunks and Bra, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” he replied honestly, lifting a brow at her.

“What type of question is that?!” she asked, incredulous at such a remark, especially after his comment about supposedly wanting what’s best for her.

Vegeta simply said, “They’ll be just fine, Bulma. You and I both know that.”

A brief silence followed before she wondered, “What is going with you, Vegeta? Are you hinting at something? You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense, but you’re not used to other people being capable of that, and it’s bothering you.”

Her mouth formed a thin line before she answered, “Trunks says you’ve been acting strange for the last two weeks, and that before _that_ you seemed to be in a great mood. He seems to think that—”

“That I’m seeing someone?”

She stared at him, surprised by him yet again, before she finally said, “Yes.”

“I was. I’m not anymore.”

Looking him over, she laughed a little, confused, and asked, “Well, what happened? I- it’s not my business or anything, I just…” she eyed him, “ _Did_ something happen, Vegeta?”

Coming closer to her, Vegeta answered, “No, and yes…” He admitted, “I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”

“Like what?” she remarked smartly, but she wasn’t angry, she was just confused.

Vegeta took her hand into his, her left hand, where his ring used to sit on her finger. He made sure he was catching her gaze as he told her, “I never meant to hurt you, Bulma, and I’m not asking for your forgiveness, but I… I want you to know that I’ve always thought the world of you.”

She rolled her eyes and let out a brief giggle of hysterical laughter before she said, “You must have been dating a _serious_ _asshole_ if you’re suddenly starting to feel bad about things between us!”

“Actually, he’s just the opposite. It’s absurd how incredible he is.”

Bulma was taken completely back by those words and she couldn’t help but ask, “Impossible! You- You never say anything good about anyone!”

Vegeta told her, “Not to their face, maybe, but just because I’ve never said it out loud before doesn’t mean I haven’t thought it.”

“And if he’s so perfect then why’d you break up?”

“Have you met me?” he smirked.

“Vegeta…” Bulma didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if he was being serious or if he was just messing with her.

“I should have been honest with you from the beginning, Bulma. But I want you to know that I don’t regret anything.”

“What have you done with _my_ Vegeta?” Bulma smiled, swatting at his arm, playfully, “This is not the same man I know standing in front of me! What in the world has got _you_ so sentimental?!”

Vegeta let go of her hand, smirking still, and replied, “I’m not sure.”

She opened her mouth to reply but no words came out. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing as it is, much less find a response.

Urgently, Vegeta told her, “I’ve got to go,” and stepping away he said, “I’ll be back to pick up Bra again soon.”

“O-okay…” Bulma answered, but that was all she said as she watched him walked out the door.

Vegeta was beside himself for the rest of the evening. Having that simple conversation… actually felt _good_.

Goku still hasn’t called. Vegeta wasn’t surprised. He didn’t expect him to, honestly, but he has done a great deal of thinking back on the whole thing. Everything that he’d told him just kept circling around in his mind, his thoughts creating torrents that he thought would never cease. He wondered if Kakarot was thinking about him at all, but he figured that even if he was, they probably weren’t good thoughts.

He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders. He had plenty of other chips to place right on top of where the last load had been relieved from, and so he wasn’t completely weightless, but that couldn’t be helped. He didn’t think he’d _ever_ be completely healed of the invisible scars of his life.

Telling Kakarot the truth did make him realize how ridiculous he’s been behaving, though. He could admit that. How absurd all of his fears have truly been. How stuck up and stuck in his own box he’s been living for all of these years. He guessed, after having had some time to think about it, and think about it clearly, that saying everything out loud just made it all hit a little differently, and he realized that he didn’t want to be subject to his own relentless, superimposed will anymore.

He was going to change. Hell, he _was_ changing, whether he wanted to or not. It seemed he didn’t have a choice. He knew that not _everything_ about him would change, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to change, but it couldn’t be helped. That’s what happen when someone goes through a paradigm shift. You can no longer go back to the way things were before such a momentous discovery.

What had he discovered, exactly? Not much. Nothing grandiose or anything. There were some small details of himself, though, that he knew he could no longer overlook, or let slide, and he wasn’t about to try.

His drinking, for instance, was helping nothing. His anger and his need to fight, for another, could have and _should have_ been harnessed and utilized better. He’s not going to live forever, and he’s been a fool not to have at least admitted to himself that his family means more to him than he could ever possibly say.

Perhaps he still wouldn’t say it in so many words, but he was going to try to show them, before he leaves, _if he leaves_ , what they mean to him. If he can figure out how.

He felt foolish for having ever tried to hide his emotions from Kakarot. That man practically forced it all out of him, without hardly any effort. And while the man didn’t seem deep enough to understand any of the concepts Vegeta was trying to express to him, he certainly didn’t seem ignorant enough to simply let it all slide, either.

Vegeta felt even more ridiculous for caring so much about keeping up appearances in the first place, but he didn’t begrudge himself for trying. Having gone through so many difficult trials and errors as a teen and a young adult tend to have life-long lasting effects on a person, and he imagined that no one would be without any repercussions having been through what _he’s_ been through.

But he was tired of making excuses. What does an excuse say about his pride? That’s it’s only half baked? That’s it’s only a farce? A masquerade? A full-blown show put out there for nothing more than a passerby’s entertainment if they’re smart enough to catch on? Or was it simply just to keep everyone out? Including himself.

What the hell is the point in living like that?

He didn’t want to admit that he’d been living behind such a smoke screen, encased with mirrors, and riddled with closed doors all of his life, but he would admit it, now, if it meant he could learn from his mistakes and move on. It wasn’t going to happen overnight. He’ll probably end up relapsing into old habits a few times, but he was willing to try, and that was progress enough.

He didn’t exactly know what he should be doing differently, though. That was the strangest part. He wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong, not really, he just knew that he wasn’t doing anything right, either. He wasn’t _handling_ things, not in a healthy manner. He wasn’t taking care of things, not with any real results anyways. And while it was hard to face these facts, he welcomed the growth all the same. He welcomed the newness of it all. The change in his own small world, whether it gets smaller or not, would surely be more bearable for him in the future. He only has himself, after all. He wouldn’t have gotten as far in this world without all of the cleverness within him, all of his hard work in one avenue or another- all of his obsessive determination and grit- and he wasn’t about to deny that at least he had that part of him to be proud of still.

For the first time in a long time, he was reminded of the qualities about himself that he liked, and that was something to be thankful for more than anything else.

He had Kakarot to thank for that and he wished it didn’t have to come at the cost of losing him. He believed in him. He believed he could help him. He already had helped him, just by being himself. But Vegeta certainly hasn’t returned to favor.

He hoped these realizations wouldn’t have to come at the cost of losing his family, as well, but he was willing to bet that the sacrifice of his absence would be well worth the rewards of their promising futures.

He still wasn’t sure about his decision yet, though. It was a decision he could only make once, and he was still willing to wait it out, and let the forces of the universe help him ultimately decide what he was going to do.

He would miss them, of course, and he was certain that they’d never understand, but that was irrelevant at this point in time.

Two more weeks passed. Trunks was all set to go to college. His bags were practically packed. Vegeta still hasn’t talked to his son, but in all honesty, it wasn’t all that different from how things were before, so he just let it all go in stride. As long as Trunks is happy, that’s all he cared about. 

Saturday nights used to be his time to hit the bars and look for someone to pass the time with, but he was over that stage in his life, now. Instead, he was at home, sober, and readying himself for bed.

It was well after midnight, and while being sober hadn’t changed his habits all _that_ much, sobriety _has_ been a strange reality for him. Before, he felt more, but now, when he thought that all of the emotions that he’d held in for so long would come out in full swing without the distraction of something, he was surprised to find that he actually felt _less_. Or rather, he _knew_ his feelings more than felt them. It was a strange sort of calm that accompanied such ruthless awareness, which was quite the opposite of what he’d expected. He thought he wouldn’t be able to bear being perfectly privy to every single thing going on, but instead, he realized that _nothing_ was _really_ going on, and it was… nice. He could acknowledge what he was feeling without those feelings overbearing him. In fact, nothing felt overbearing to him anymore.

Nothing except for his thoughts of leaving, and his thoughts of Kakarot.

How he loves them. And how he loves him, for him, just the way that he is, and for the way that he made him feel about himself and nothing more.

He never thought that he would be able to experience that type of love, but he had to admit that the time he’d spent with the man had been worth every single moment. The reflection the man had caused him to take upon himself was worth it. If Kakarot called him today, and told him he wanted to be with him, and gave him an ultimatum that they could only be together if Vegeta told everyone he knows about him, Vegeta would take him up on it in a heartbeat. Even if it didn’t work out. Going through that journey with him would be worth it.

He won’t call of course. He’s probably trying to figure out exactly how he can go about separating their already partly intertwined lives without making a big deal about things. The way Vegeta figures it, though, that’s going to be so much simpler when Trunks moves out and goes off to college, and it will be a complete nonissue if Vegeta does decide to move away.

Kakarot doesn’t know any of that, though. and Vegeta still wasn’t sure how he was going to tell him if he does decide to leave, but knew he wanted to see him again. Even if it’s just one last time.

Vegeta’s phone suddenly started going off. At first, he looked over at it as though the sound of his phone ringing was something he’d never heard before. After the second ring he realized that the sound of his phone ringing wasn’t certainly something he didn’t hear _often,_ and he wondered who it could possibly be, but he didn’t get his hopes up.

His heart still hammered in his chest at the possibilities. His phone was face down so he couldn’t see the screen just yet. The third ring signaled. If this is just another booty call, he was going to answer it to tell them never to call him again.

Knitting his brows further in apprehension, he reached forward and picked it up tentatively to see who was calling him. He turned it around and to his surprise he saw Trunks’ name on the screen.

Shocked, he picked it up at once. “Yes?”

They haven’t talked in a month and that’s how he answers the phone? Changing habits sure is hard.

“Papa…” Trunks’ voice came over the speaker quietly. He sounded strained, even over the phone.

It’s been ages since his son has called him that. It’s been at least a month since he’s even talked to his son. Why is he calling right now…? It’s past one o’clock in the morning…

“What is it?” Vegeta replied. Something wasn’t feeling right. Something in his gut. As much as he’d like to be trying to be better to his son at this moment, it just didn’t seem the right time to try a more docile approach.

A choked sound followed coming from the other end of the line.

Vegeta didn’t want to _assume_ that was he was hearing was whimpering, but that’s certainly what it sounded like. “What’s going on?” He asked abruptly, his tone nothing short of demanding.

“I fucked up,” Trunks whispered.

“What are you talking about?!” Vegeta ordered, “Are you in trouble?!”

“Father, I… I-it’s Goten…”

Vegeta’s keys were already in his hand and he was heading out the door before he realized his feet were carrying him at all. “What happened? Where are you?” He asked, stern but calm.

“It’s so bad, Dad… I-I didn’t know what to do- I didn’t know who to call- I—”

“ _Where are you?!”_

Trunks swallowed, “At the hospital. West City Emergency,” he sniffled.

“Fuck, Trunks.”

Sobbing.

“I’m on my way!” Vegeta assured him, and then he asked, “Did you call Kakarot?” He was already in his car, throwing it into gear.

“N-no…”

Vegeta growled, “Call his father! Do you have his number?!”

Sniff, “I, um—”

“Never mind, I’ll call him myself— Trunks! Is Goten okay?!”

“Yes, no- I don’t know! I think so! I hope so! Oh fuck, Papa, I—”

“Yes or no, Trunks!”

“Yes?! I don’t know!”

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“I-I…” more sobbing.

“Trunks! Stop that! I’m on my way! Stop it right now, do you hear me?! What room are you in?!”

Trunks managed, “Waiting room…”

“Where’s Goten?! How long have you been there?!”

“E-emergency room… I-I don’t know… Not long, Papa, I…”

“I’m on my way! Hold it together! Do you hear me?! Hold it. Together!” With that, Vegeta hung up. He couldn’t handle the sound of his son crying in his ears. He couldn’t handle not knowing what was going on. His hands were shaking as he flew down the streets, bypassing cars and ignoring traffic laws.

He tried to call Kakarot, for the first time since their fight- fight be damned- but there was no answer.

Thoughts, innumerable and indiscernible, flew around in his brain. Time seemed to mean nothing and everything all at once.

He was trying not to panic. He doesn’t panic. He might get riled up and angry, but it was nothing some answers wouldn’t settle, and then it wouldn’t be long before everything went numb.

In his desperation, he called Kakarot again. Nothing.

He pulled up to the hospital in what felt like no time at all, but it had to have been at least fifteen minutes. He raced inside, spotting Trunks almost immediately, sitting with his head in his hands, still crying.

“Where is he?!” he asked his son, shaking his shoulders to liven him up.

When Trunks’ tear-streaked face looked up at him, Vegeta’s chest clenched and his stomach lurched. His son reeked of alcohol.

The boy stood up and cried, “I didn’t know who to call! I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t mean for this to happen! Papa, I’m scared! I’m so scared.” His face fell into his father’s neck and chest.

“Tell me what happened…” Vegeta asked, hardly holding onto his son.

It wasn’t that he doesn’t care- of course he does!- he just doesn’t know how to show it. Holding onto Trunks would be like admitting that something really bad had happened, and he didn’t want to admit that, even to himself. He needed more information first.

It didn’t even feel like it was really him standing here with his son like this. He felt so detached from everything. He looked around to see if he could find a doctor, but all he saw were nurses bustling in and out, and other people who were either crying, sleeping, or sitting somberly.

Trunks was still bawling his eyes out into his chest. He’s _never_ seen his son so upset before. He gripped his shoulders and shook them as he heard himself commanding, “Calm down, damn it! Tell me what happened!”

“I…” his son hesitated.

“I need to know! Did you refuse to tell the damn doctors, too?!”

“W-we were drinking!” Trunks admitted, “It was just a stupid drinking game! And then he… he… I don’t know. Idontknow! I got scared!” Trunks whimpered, shaking his head, his tears soaking Vegeta’s chest, his voice muffled. “I _told_ the doctors! Everything I could! All the other kids just ran away! _I drove him here!_ As fast as I could! I was too afraid to call the cops and I—” he shook his head again, catching his breath, “They said it was alcohol poisoning… They said they’d have to pump his stomach! I-I-I didn’t know what else to do and I didn’t know who to call! And I was so afraid that we’d- but I just-- His mom is dead and his dad’s not home! I tried to get his dad’s number from his phone, but I don’t know his passcode and I just! I just! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know who to call!”

Vegeta stood there in mild shock. Hearing the distress in his son’s voice, the anguish, was tormenting him. He pushed his son away from his chest to distance himself. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He told him, “You sit here… You just… sit here… and try to calm down. I’ll be right back.” Then he ran away, heading down the halls.

He looked through every room. He needed to see Goten for himself. He needed to make sure that he was okay. He’s just too damn young. And his son— This could have easily been Trunks! He just couldn’t be around him.

“Sir, you can’t be back here. Sir?!”

Vegeta ignored the voice hollering after him and continued his search. One fabric-covered makeshift room after another. One beaten, battered, or sick soul after another. The uncomfortable panic concealed by practiced calm of the doctors and nurses- the beeping of the machines- the bland color of the walls- it was all too familiar. And so fucking cold. Vegeta kept looking.

Finally, he found him, behind one of the many white curtains. He pushed it aside and ran into the room. His heart stopped. For a second he thought he was looking at his little brother…

He shook his head to be rid of the image and approached the side of the bed slowly.

One of the nurse’s was staring at him and she asked, “Sir, who are you?! Are you the boy’s father?!”

“Guardian,” Vegeta said shortly, fibbing a little. He knew how these things went. His hands trembled as he crept nearer. “How is he?”

“He’s been stabilized,” the nurse nodded, “He needs rest.”

Vegeta blinked and saw Tarble’s face. He blinked again and it was gone, only Goten remained. “He’ll be okay?” Vegeta asked, reaching out to touch the young man’s hand. It was warm. Vegeta was relieved.

“He should be fine…” something about procedures, “He’ll need to take it easy, though…” something about recovery and fluids, “The doctor will be by shortly…”

Vegeta wasn’t listening beyond hearing that he would be fine. He told her, “There’s a boy out there, with the purple hair… Find him. Bring him here. He’s his friend. He needs to see him…”

The nurse hesitated but nodded and complied with his requests.

Vegeta struggled with his own emotions. They were blaring at him, and he was aware of them, but it was just as he’d presumed: he felt numb. He stared at Goten’s face, so much like Kakarot’s, and he thought of his brother, and his son, before he exited the curtains, and pulled out his phone. He tried to call Kakarot again, and again, nothing. So, he called the next best thing.

Trunks came running up, breezing past his father, and once Trunks and Goten were reunited, Vegeta walked away completely, all the way back to the front, heading outside for some fresh air as he listened to the other line ring for far too long.

Finally, an answer: “Hello? Vegeta?”

“Gohan,” Vegeta breathed.

“Heeyy!” he yawned, “What a surprise! It’s kind of late though…”

“Gohan listen to me,” Vegeta’s voice threatened to crack, but he refused to let it, “Your brother is in the West City Emergency hospital. Can you come down here?”

Of course, Gohan agreed right away. He asked questions, which Vegeta gave base, robotized answers to, and they were off the phone in a hurry.

Everything seemed like it happened in a hurry, but it probably didn’t. That’s how things work in a tragedy. Time passes, but it doesn’t feel the same. Things don’t look the same. They don’t even mean the same.

Goten would be okay, Vegeta was sure of it, but this was a terrible, terrible event, nonetheless. It could have been his son in there laying on that bed. He _could_ blame his son, too, if he wanted, but it wasn’t Trunks’ fault. It was _his own damn fault._

He tried to call Kakarot again. No answer. He even tried to call Bulma, just to be yelled at. Just to feel something. Just to get some perspective other than his own. She didn’t answer.

When Gohan was pulling up, he called Vegeta to ask him where to go, and they met out front, where Vegeta told him to follow him inside. They hurried back into the room, Vegeta’s sharp, tragedy laden memory taking him directly there. Trunks was now sitting next to Goten’s still sleeping, although stabilized form. The boy was holding Goten’s hand and still crying.

“Who are you?” A different nurse asked pointedly at their entrance.

“I’m his brother, what happened?” Gohan answered. Vegeta didn’t bother speaking.

“Gohan!” Trunks gasped, standing up and releasing Goten’s hand at once.

The nurse told Gohan pretty much the same thing as Vegeta had been told. She mentioned that they were likely to move him to another room, soon, that they would need this bed for other patients, but that the three of them were more than welcome to stay and visit him there. She said that the doctor had been by, and that he’d speak with them again shortly. Then she left.

“Goten…” Gohan frowned, approaching his brother’s sleeping form.

Trunks tensed at Gohan’s proximity. “Gohan… I—”

“It was an accident, Trunks…” Gohan nodded, not looking at him.

Vegeta watched as his son tensed in guilt and dismay.

“Hey, little bro…” Gohan said softly to the sleeping form on the bed, brushing through some of Goten’s hair.

Vegeta flinched. He crossed his arms over his chest as he backed away.

“It’s Gohan, little bro… You’re gonna be okay…”

Trunks’ bottom lip trembled, and it wasn’t a second later until his resolve to be strong crumbled once more and he placed his head in his hands and began sobbing all over again.

Gohan looked back up and over at Vegeta. Smiling gently, he told him, “Thanks for calling me… I’m sure you tried to get a hold of our dad, right?”

Vegeta nodded, his brows knitting together, his jaw set tight.

Gohan sighed and nodded, “Me too.” He looked back over at Goten and after sitting down on the bed beside him, he said, “Of course he didn’t answer. Sounds about right, doesn’t it, Goten? He’s never around, is he? Only when you really need him, huh? I guess that’s a good sign, right? That’s our dad, alright. I’m sure he’s doing something important. He’ll be back soon. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll be here when you wake up.”

A strange silence followed those words.

Trunks offered, coming closer, his voice still quivering, “Gohan! I-I’m so sorry…”

“Oh, Trunks,” Gohan smiled sadly, “I know… It’s okay…”

“It’s not!” Trunks cried.

“ _It’s okay…_ ” Gohan promised, staring at him, “We can talk about this later, yeah? Right now, we just need to let the nurse’s and doctor’s do their job… And let him rest.”

Trunks sniveled but wiped his eyes on the arm of his shirt and nodded.

“I’m here, now. I’m not going anywhere,” Gohan assured him, “It’s late. I’m sure you’ve had a long night. Why don’t you go get something to eat and get some rest yourself…? You don’t look so good.” He turned to Vegeta, “You guys don’t have to stay. I can handle things from here.”

“I’m not leaving!” Trunks argued.

Gohan’s voice turned sterner, “At least get something to eat, then. And try to relax, Trunks. I’m sure Goten would like to see you being strong when he wakes up, yeah?”

Trunks nodded.

Gohan’s voice turned soft again as he looked over at Vegeta and he asked, “Can I… Can I call you later on?”

Vegeta nodded and backed away again.

“Thanks, Vegeta…” Gohan smiled, and then he turned back to his little brother as he told Trunks, “Go with your father, Trunks. Come back when you’ve gotten something to eat, okay?”

The way he’d said it- it wasn’t really a question, so Trunks didn’t bother to respond. He nodded and headed towards the curtain doorway. He faltered, looking back at Goten one more time, before he escaped that terrible little makeshift room.

Vegeta watched as his son walked with sagging shoulders, a tremor wracking his body that he just couldn’t quell. They were silent well into their travels through the hospital, back out into the waiting room, and then towards the exit.

“Trunks…” Vegeta started, but hesitated. He expected his son to turn around and snap on him. He expected his son to do _something_ in response to him, _anything_ , but Trunks just kept walking, not facing him, and still not speaking to him.

They finally made it outside, and Trunks stopped, only to drop to the ground and lean against the building, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face into them. He crossed his arms one over the other, and his fingers dug into his triceps.

“Trunks…” Vegeta tried again, but he still hadn’t thought of what to say to him.

“I’m not hungry,” Trunks mumbled, the sound of his voice muffled in its chamber. Even if Vegeta had heard it without the barrier he was sure it would have sounded just as pitiful, if not more so. He didn’t mean that in a negative way.

“You should eat, or you’ll feel worse the longer you put it off,” Vegeta told him mechanically.

Trunks sighed and scoffed but didn’t reply.

“Believe me, Trunks, I know what that’s like—”

“Do you?!” he son suddenly bellowed, looking up at him with distress in his normally lively and spirited eyes, “Do you know what it’s like, Dad?!”

Vegeta knew that his son was not referring to eating after a night of drinking and while he normally would have snapped back, he kept his mouth shut this time.

Trunks dropped his head to his knees again.

“Listen…” Vegeta began.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Trunks spat. It was another moment before he pulled his head back up, and Vegeta saw that he was crying again.

He wished he could take his son’s pain away, but he couldn’t. No one could, and nothing will except for Trunks’ own resolve to accept this tragedy move on.

His son sniffed and glared up at him, but Vegeta could tell he didn’t really mean anything by his harsh gaze. He could also tell that his son was sifting through so many thoughts he didn’t know what to do with yet, and so many emotions he’s never wrestled before. He was trying to handle the situation to the best of his abilities, but he hadn’t been equipped with many skills in dealing with this type of thing.

Trying once more, Vegeta said, “Son, I—”

“What?! Are you going to yell at me?! Are you going to blame me?! Like I don’t already blame myself! I _know this is all my fault, Dad!_ IT’S ALL MY FAULT!” his voice bellowed.

“Calm down…”

“No! You don’t understand! You could _never_ understand!” Trunks jumped to his feet, “You think I _wanted_ this to happen?! We were just supposed to be having fun and the next thing I know I- He- It was fucking horrible, Dad! And everybody else just ran away! But I just- I- I knew I had to do something! And I know we weren’t supposed to be drinking but THIS?! _THIS?!!_ Is he ever gonna forgive me?! Is he going to blame me?! Is he going to be okay?! Fuck! **_Fuck_**!” Trunks covered his eyes with one arm and focused his tears into it as he tried to calm down. “Goten…” he sobbed, “I just can’t believe this has happened… And I feel so fucking awful… But I can’t imagine what he’s going through and I… I’m so sorry this ever happened… I don’t deserve to be forgiven for this… And I know you’re probably angry with me for calling you so late… And for being so stupid… I just don’t want to hear it right now, okay?! Yell at me all you want later, but not now!”

“I…” Vegeta swallowed. A lifetime of hiding his emotions and refusing to open up and now he was faced with a challenging situation, but he wasn’t as nervous as he thought he might be, and for some reason words just spewed from his lips without him really thinking about them. “I do know what you’re going through, Trunks,” he told him, his voice still gruff, despite his desire to be comforting.

“Yeah, right…” Trunks huffed, his anger getting the best of him. It was the only thing he knew how to utilize. The only thing he could fall back on. Vegeta blamed himself for that, too.

Gathering his nerve once again, Vegeta told him, “And I’m not angry…”

Trunks eyed him suspiciously at that, but he looked away in his guilt and grief.

“You would have had an uncle… if I had been able to save him…” Vegeta admitted.

Trunks froze a moment at that information, and he was listening, but he wouldn’t turn to his father to look him in the eye.

Vegeta was whispering now, as he shared some of his past he’d once sworn to never talk about with his son, “I took him to the hospital too late because I was too young, younger than you, and too stupid, certainly not as smart as you, and too afraid, definitely much more frightened than you, and I didn’t want to hear what they were going to tell us because I didn’t want it to be true. Tarble was very sick… and if I had more courage at the time, or maybe if I had taken him in sooner and not thought that I could fix it myself, or maybe if I had been better to him, taken better care of him… He never would have lost his life to pneumonia like he did… You did the right thing, Trunks. You did the adult thing. I… I’m proud of you. And you can blame yourself all you want but it won’t change what happened. It won’t make it better. It won’t make it go away. And it won’t make you able to live with yourself. So I suggest you stop wasting your time pointing fingers and just be grateful that Goten is okay… That’s all that really matters. Goten is going to be okay, Trunks.”

Trunks looked over at his father with wide-disbelieving eyes., tears still falling. He began to speak but Vegeta’s phone rang and it cut off whatever courage he had built up in that brief moment and tore it back down.

Vegeta pulled his phone out of his pocket quickly and noticed that the caller ID said Bulma on it. He’d been hoping it would say Kakarot, but he looked back up at his disappointment, and took a moment to think. He told his son to go back inside and get something to eat, and then go back to Gohan and Goten before he turned away to answer it. Trunks nodded at him and did as he was told.

Bulma was irritated that Vegeta had called so late, never mind the fact that she was only just then getting to bed, but that initial anger was nowhere near as bad as when Vegeta told her what was going on. He could hardly get a word in edge wise, and after a little while, he barely even tried.

“What the hell do you mean you’re at the hospital with Trunks?! … Trunks was doing _what_?! … Goten was with him?! Oh my god, Vegeta! Goten had to have his stomach pumped?! … Have you talked to Goku?! … Of COURSE you can’t get a hold of him! What the hell are you good for?! … I’m coming out there! … Don’t tell me what to do, Vegeta! I’m already putting my shoes on! … How about YOU start fucking taking care of things before things like _this_ happen! … Pay attention to your fucking son every once in a while! … Oh, I can’t believe this! I’m so mad I could scream! … This is all your fault, Vegeta! … Goten almost lost his fucking life because of _your_ negligence! … You’re an asshole! And I wonder where Trunks got his bad habits from! YOU! You’re a bad influence! … I don’t want to see you, Vegeta! Do you hear me?! Trunks is coming to stay with me from now on! In fact- I don’t want you around Bra for that matter! You just need to stay away from all of us! … I’m coming out there, and when I get there, I want you to leave! I’ll take care of everything! You have no idea what this means, Vegeta! NO IDEA! Damn you! _Damn you!_ ”


	19. 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just updated... but I've been off from work due to snow and so I've found myself with more free time than expected... So, enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> Also... the chapter count went up, but it is still just a rough estimate so it may change again.

19

Vegeta didn’t sleep at all that night, and the time he spent lying in bed tossing and turning was worse on his body than any workout he’s ever done. He couldn’t stop thinking about Goten, helpless in that hospital bed, and the unmanageable likeness of it that sent similar images of his little brother to his mind like a circuit. Never stopping, never slowing down. It felt like losing him all over again, and it’s been a long time since Vegeta remembered the ghostly manner in which those thoughts used to haunt him.

He blames himself for his brother’s death. He always has, but seeing Trunks struggling with this situation, different or not, has made him realize just how foolish he was to blame himself when he’d done what he thought was best.

But that was then, this is now, and while he may have fallen short of the mark, at least his son had not.

Bulma was right, to some degree. Vegeta should have been more responsible with taking care of Trunks all of these years. He should have been more involved. He should have been more aware of what his son was actually doing. Or more careful, or stricter. _Something._ Anything that might have saved his son from dealing with this, and saved Goten from going through _that._

Regardless of the fact that it was nothing more than an accident, Vegeta couldn’t help but wonder what if. What if he had been there for Trunks all this time? What if he had talked to him about his past instead of shutting him out? What if he had warned him of how easily mistakes can be made and how dangerous the world can really be— then maybe he could have stopped this from happening to Goten. Maybe he could have stopped this from happening to Trunks. Maybe.

Ahh, but he’s more than familiar with the way that traveling down the road of “what-ifs” goes, and it leads to nowhere. He knew there was no point in going over this a million times, but damn it if his mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.

What the hell is Kakarot going to say to him, now? Surely Kakarot is not going to forgive him for something so serious. The mistake was most certainly on his end for allowing his son to make the rules and go where he pleases without even so much as asking who he was going to see and allowing Goten to follow right along.

Bulma is not going to forgive him either for that matter, and her promise of keeping him away from Bra and Trunks was not something to be taken lightly. If she is being serious about the matter, then she’s probably already told her security to bar him from even stepping foot inside of Capsule Corp., and she’s not a woman of idle threats.

The whole thing broke Vegeta’s already hardly surviving heart into fractures. How can he stand by while his son and his daughter are held out of reach from him?

Trunks and Goten’s reckless actions will have other repercussions, as well, like Trunks’ reputation, for instance, and whether or not he and Goten will even be allowed to hang out anymore. Would Kakarot keep Goten from being friends with Trunks because of this? Would Bulma? Vegeta didn’t know.

Bulma seemed to think Trunks’ reputation was more important than anything else at the moment, although Vegeta is fairly sure that her money and fame is more than enough to dispel any issues. But, from her perspective, if it gets out that he had to take his friend to the hospital because of thoughtless actions, adolescents or not, the tabloids were going to be talking all about it and they don’t need the negative publicity against Capsule Corp’s promising young heir. Not that Trunks’ life was on the line or anything, which Vegeta thought to tell Bulma because _he_ found it to be the more important matter. Bulma didn’t seem to agree, exactly. Either that or she was simply too furious about the situation and pissed of at Vegeta in particular to listen to any type of rationalization he had to offer during the brief moments they spent discussing this business outside of the hospital before he’d headed back home.

Upon getting out of bed the next day, (not really waking up, because he didn’t actually go to sleep) Vegeta was _still_ feeling a bit out of it. To him, he was just grateful that it wasn’t worse. He’s seen so much worse. It could have been so much worse. He groggily relieved himself before he headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. At least he had that going for him. Something to jolt his system since it didn’t want to sleep anyways. Something to fuel him since he’d lost his appetite. Something to help spur his thoughts on even faster because _that’s_ exactly what he needs.

He still felt numb. He didn’t like that he left without saying anything more to his son, especially when Trunks was already in so much turmoil. It bothered him that Trunks thought he would be mad at him about something so serious, too. They definitely should have spent more time together throughout the years, then Trunks would have known that Vegeta is, most definitely, _not_ mad about how he handled the situation. Sure, he wished that it never happened, and sure, he’d told Trunks that he wasn’t upset, but he doubted that he believed him.

He couldn’t even think about Goten anymore.

He knew that he should have stayed to speak with Gohan again after waking him up at one in the morning, as well. He should have stuck around to make sure that the boys, all three of them, were at least mildly settled, but he wasn’t the “supportive” type.

He couldn’t believe he’d called Kakarot. Not to mention the fact that he’d called Kakarot under _serious_ circumstances, but his phone call wasn’t _good_ enough for him to answer, was it? No, and now Kakarot doesn’t even know about the state of his own son! Vegeta couldn’t even be the one to alert him of it!

Does Kakarot know, now?

What the hell was Gohan talking about when he said that Kakarot’s never around? Vegeta just… found that hard to believe. He _had_ been suspicious of just how available Kakarot is to his kids based on context clues he’s gotten from Gohan, but…

Why the hell is he thinking about this right now?

How is Trunks doing? Is Goten awake, yet? Is he alright? Is Gohan taking care of everything like he said that he would? Is Trunks going to come back home any time soon? Even if it’s only just to get his things? Is Bulma really not going to even speak to him anymore?

Damn it, why can’t he get that image of Tarble out of his head?!

Maybe _he_ would have known what to do had _his father_ been there to help him throughout the years.

But Trunks somehow knew what to do all on his own, didn’t he? Vegeta could only thank Bulma’s good sense and her strong will for that small miracle. There was no part of him that he could see in Trunks that was good enough to account for the bravery and quick wit his son had managed to portray in the slim, dangerous instances between life and death. And the fact that his son could tell the difference- that he could sense the need- meant everything, and it made Vegeta’s heart swell with pride beyond measure.

… Will Kakarot ever speak to Vegeta again after he allowed this to happen?

Vegeta sat there for a few moments, going over and over everything, just like he has been for the past 6 or 7 hours now. He took in a deep breath and decided that he’d had enough of wondering. Everyone around him has had enough of his shortcomings, after all, and this ordeal has only made his choice to leave that much easier. And the choice has been made.

This was the final straw. The seal of the deal. The reason beyond all other reasoning. The sign that he’d been looking for. He could creep away quietly at this and never be more satisfied with how it all ended than how he feels right now in knowing that he wasn’t wanted around anymore, and that his presence truly wasn’t worth more than his absence.

It would have to wait a little while longer though. One thing at a time, and first things first. So, he decided to take a shower and then get something to eat. After that he would start small. He sifted through the mental list of things he could take care of easily enough, like cutting off his gym membership. Maybe he could sell his car if he had to, way down the line, if push comes to shove. He should probably check his bank account too and find out how much money he’s working with. He might want to figure out exactly where he’s going, too.

He’ll need to make certain that he sees his family again, as well, whether they want to see him or not. That moment will be for him. They’ll understand one day.

Hopefully, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to see Kakarot again, too. Even if there’s nothing but anger and regret in the other man’s eyes, seeing his handsome face again and telling him goodbye one last time would be worth it.

The rest of the day drug on. Trunks never did come home, but Gohan sent Vegeta a text letting him know that Goten was awake and doing fine. Vegeta felt the relief of a warm blanket on a shivering cold night come over him at that news. He didn’t know that he’d needed to hear that until he’d heard it. Upon hitting the bed that night, he was finally able to fall sleep.

When he woke up the next morning- afternoon- Vegeta found that his house was still empty. The only thing he found that hadn’t been there the day before was an angry text from Bulma.

Bulma stated that she wants to send Trunks to a 30-day rehab for the Briefs’ name sake, which would put off his attendance to college. Vegeta wholeheartedly disagreed with this idea, but he didn’t immediately respond, he simply kept reading. She went on to say that since he’s a minor and the cops weren’t involved neither he nor Goten will get into any sort of legal trouble. Still, she had it under good authority that the rumor was already spreading that the young man had been at the hospital (to which Vegeta thought that if _she_ hadn’t showed up it might have gone unnoticed), and she was certain that it wouldn’t be long before more information got out. Vegeta sneered. She also expressed that neither of the boys would confess to who sold them the alcohol. Vegeta had no doubt that she was wondering if he was the culprit. He scoffed at that but ignored it, too. The text went on and on. Apparently Goten is still in the hospital, waiting on approval for discharge, something about complications of being a minor that Vegeta didn’t understand and Bulma didn’t explain. Apparently, Trunks refuses to leave his side. She declares that she’s going to send Trunks over for some of his things, though, as soon as she can tear him away, and that was it.

Vegeta’s annoyed by her message and he immediately sets out to go and see her. When he arrives at Capsule Corp. security is waiting for him, and they hold him at the front door while they alert Bulma of his arrival. Luckily for them, Bulma says he can come in.

The woman tells him she doesn’t have time for him, though. She’s frantically trying to usher out orders over one phone, while another won’t stop ringing, and at the same time she was yelling at her staff about one thing or another, before to him she barks, “What the hell are you doing here, anyways, Vegeta?”

“I came to speak with you and to see Bra.”

“I thought I told you not to come here? I’m pissed at you, Vegeta! And it’s not like we’re married anymore, so when I’m mad, you need to respect my boundaries! Besides, Bra is at a friend’s house!” Bulma waves him off, stomping away through the frenzy of workers running about.

“Why in the hell would you let her out of your sight at a time like this?” Vegeta growls, following her.

“I have a million other things going on, Vegeta! You wasted your time coming over here and don’t even _think_ about showing up again without calling!”

“You think those men can stop me?! I _allowed_ them—”

“If they don’t, then you’ll get legal repercussions for trespassing!”

“You said I could come and go as I please!”

“That was before you—” she looked around shortly, then lowered her voice and finished, “Before all of this! I have a lot of work to do, Vegeta!” She turned away from him again and continued walking.

“You think I handed them a bottle of tequila and _told_ them to get fucked up?” Vegeta growled, tailing her, “You’re being absolutely ridiculous, woman! I need to talk to you, and I have every right to see my daughter.”

Bulma kept walked as she fumed at him, “Now is not the time for this, Vegeta! I don’t know _who_ gave them the alcohol _OR_ what happened because Trunks won’t tell me! And I don’t really care to hear all the details right now anyway! It won’t change anything, will it?!” She stopped and turned to him, poking a finger in his chest, “Do you have any idea what kind of clean-up I’m having to do because of all of this?! _Some_ of us have to work, Vegeta!”

Vegeta sneered, “You dare to bring my work-life into this! That’s irrelevant! Now who cares about what other people have to say, after all, hmm?”

“I do! You’re not **me**!” Bulma cried, “And believe it not, _I’m_ the more important one in this situation! At least, that’s how they’re spinning it! That’s how they _always_ spin it!” She turns and begins to yell at one of her employees, “You! Yes, you! You were supposed to have my papers 5 minutes ago! I want them YESTERDAY!”

Vegeta growls under his breath at her.

She turns to him again, “Look, Bra doesn’t understand what’s going on, and amongst this much chaos, I’d rather have her off somewhere else. So you really have no reason to be here,” she flicks her hair behind her as she turns away from him, calling over her shoulder, “You could have just responded to my text if you had something to say, you know.”

“And wait another day to get a reply?” Vegeta spat, following her closely again.

“A day, a week, it doesn’t matter. I’ve made up my mind,” she says assertively, “You can take Bra out one more time on another day, I guess, I don’t want to punish her in all of this, but I’m still pissed at you and I have every right to be! I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t want you around, anymore. I have been sick to my stomach over this whole thing. But since you’re being so persistent, which I suppose I should be grateful for, I’d almost rather that if you do spend time with her, you do it here. Maybe we’ll plan for it. Oh,” she stopped, snatching some more paperwork out of another employee’s hands. As she read it over, she said snidely, “I just remembered, you should probably be there when I take Trunks into the program, too.”

“I am his primary custodian- you can’t take him in anywhere without my consent! And I will be damned if you think you’re going to stop me from seeing my daughter or spending time with her however I want!” Vegeta argues, “This is a far cry from the way things used to be six months ago and I _never_ thought I’d hear you say something like _that_!”

She narrows her eyes at him, “I’m not discussing this with you right now!”

“Trunks’ 18th birthday is in two months and you’re going to make him spend the next thirty days in a rehabilitation center because he had a few drinks at a _party_?!” Vegeta snapped back.

Bulma turns on her heels at that and says, “Vegeta! Are you even listening to yourself?! Do you not think this is a serious matter— Do you not see how busy I am?! We can discuss this further, later, in _private_ , but my decision has been made! I have the final say! You may have been the parent he _lived_ with more, but _I_ am still his mother, and what I say goes. Good luck fighting that in court if you even have the money to take me there. Or the job. And all of this for what? Two more months with him? Like you gave a shit the last 6 years? Back off, Vegeta. This is way over your head. And I can turn this into your worst fucking nightmare if you’d rather take it there.”

Vegeta rebutted, gritting his teeth, “I am not some corporate clone you can pressure and threaten into a deal and this isn’t about some fucking power trip between us. You need to listen to me! Sending him to rehab is _not_ going to help anything! You don’t understand what you’re saying. You always do this! Listen _far too much_ to your personal advisors and lose sight of what’s _really_ going on!”

“I don’t have time for this,” She says, throwing up her hand in his face again as she picks up her phone, “This is Bulma Briefs,” she answers, and then she turns and walks away.

Vegeta was beside himself in anger, but he felt like he has no choice but to let it slide, at least for now. He heads back home, missing out on having seen his little girl or accomplishing anything for that matter.

Vegeta was surprised when Trunks came home that night. He heard the front door open, and Trunks’ unmistakable sigh as he closed it behind him. Vegeta hesitated to come out of his room to see him, not wanting to startle him or start a fight, but he was unable to help himself. He wanted to take a good look at his son. He was grateful he could even see him at all.

Trunks looked like shit. His shoulders were hunched, he seemed tired and emotional, and his face was nowhere near its normal healthy tan hue.

Neither father nor son spoke for a moment, and Trunks was avoiding his gaze.

Finally, the young man’s eyes flicked to Vegeta’s momentarily before he stated, “I’m gonna get a shower…” He walked by him, head held down, and was quick to lock himself in the bathroom after that.

Vegeta had no idea what to do or what to say. He sat at the kitchen table, waiting, hoping that when Trunks got out of the shower that he’d change and come back out to talk to him, but he doubted it. He ordered some pizza for them and sat there, fiddling idly on his phone as he waited.

If Trunks has come back then that must mean that Goten has been released, and that was somewhat of a relief.

… Who is he kidding?

When Trunks got out of the shower he headed straight to his room and he closed the door behind him gently, which was odd behavior. Vegeta almost wished that he would have slammed it shut to give him something familiar in all of this.

Vegeta moved from the dining room to the couch, but he still wasn’t pressing anything with his son. When the pizza arrived, he used it as an excuse to try and lure Trunks out of his room.

Trunks took the bait. He came out of his room, looking better, but still not himself. He still wouldn’t look his father in the eye. He went over to the pizza boxes, picked up the plate that Vegeta had set out and slowly began pulling out the slices he wanted.

Vegeta couldn’t take it anymore, in an attempt to at least get a conversation started before Trunks could run back to his room to hide, he said, “Is Goten doing better?”

Trunks half turned and nodded in his general direction but shoved a bite of his food in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to respond.

“Good,” Vegeta muttered.

This whole thing felt awkward and forced. Trunks, standing there, leaning up against the kitchen table, eating, Vegeta, sitting on the couch, much less interested in the food than he was in his own son. It was pathetic, but Vegeta didn’t want to give up just yet.

He watched as his son chewed slowly, still not looking at him. He asked, “Have you talked to you mother?”

“Yeah,” Trunks nodded again, but at least that time Vegeta got him to say something.

“… She’s mad…?” Vegeta tried.

“Yeah,” Trunks remarked, “That’s why she’s sending me to rehab, right? Because she’s _not_ pissed.”

Vegeta’s throat closed on him, but he shifted and offered, “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Scoffing, Trunks said, “What’s there to talk about? I don’t have a choice… Do I…?” His eyes finally met Vegeta’s at that.

Vegeta didn’t know what to say. His son is obviously moody and upset. He’s gone through a lot these past few days and now his whole world is about to be uprooted right from underneath him, at least for a time.

No, not for a time. If he goes to rehab that will be on his mind for the rest of his life. It might be expunged from his permanent record, since he’s a minor, but he’ll have to deal with the memories of it forever.

Vegeta knows that Trunks isn’t addicted to alcohol. He’s just a kid, doing kid things. He didn’t know what to say, though. If Bulma doesn’t get her head out of her ass and listen to Vegeta’s perspective, as unreliable as it is, then Trunks will be forever tainted by this memory, and he’ll have just been the one who stood by and did nothing.

But he’s leaving anyways, right? What’s the point of trying to step in, now?

“I don’t think you need to go to rehab,” Vegeta admitted. He looked his son over again and just… admired him. His good looks, his charm, his personality that is so much like his own, and yet also wonderfully like his mother’s. He wished he could get him to talk.

He wished he knew how to talk to him.

“… Thanks,” his son muttered quietly and somewhat embarrassed, somewhat withdrawn, which is so unlike him. He was so much less confident than usual.

Vegeta hated it.

“Mom says I can’t stay here anymore,” Trunks tells him, taking another bite of his pizza. “I’m supposed to pack some things and head over there as soon as I’m done.”

Vegeta almost asks him if he wants to go. He almost tells him he doesn’t _have_ to go. But Trunks has been talking about nothing _but_ leaving for so long, now, Vegeta feels like he’d just be wasting his breath.

They eat in silence after that, each of them mulling over their thoughts slowly, privately. When he finally finishes eating, Trunks goes to his room and begins to pack his things. Vegeta listens to the sounds of rustling coming from his room and thinks back on all of the fights they’ve had, and all of the ways he’s messed up. The last thing he wants to do is make it worse.

When Trunks comes back out of his room an hour later, Vegeta is still sitting on the couch, lost in thought. He looks over at his son and wonders what’s going through his mind. He wonders if he’s okay. If he needs him for anything.

Trunks sort of fumbles around with his bags a little bit, and Vegeta wonders if this is him hesitating.

“Um,” Trunks shifts, resituating his things over his shoulder and in his hands, “Thanks… for coming to the hospital, I mean.”

Vegeta replies, “I didn’t do anything.”

Trunks’ gaze meets his and he holds it.

He CLEARLY doesn’t want to go, right? He WANTS to talk, right? But Vegeta just doesn’t know how to initiate it. He doesn’t know how to make this better.

“I guess I… gotta go…” Trunks mumbles, shifting again.

“Okay…” Vegeta answers. So many things were on the tip of his tongue. So many thoughts he wants to share. So much he wants him to know.

“Okay…” Trunks looks away, “Bye…”

Vegeta stands up as he heads down the hallway to the front door. He took in a deep breath and started to holler after him, but he hesitated.

He just couldn’t.

New things are hard to do.

Vegeta stayed up until well into the late hours of the evening that night. It was the first night that he knew that Trunks would be gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back. Ever.

Vegeta realizes in that very moment that nothing is holding him back from leaving anymore.

His son is under his mother’s jurisdiction now, and she was going to try her best to take good care of him. Better than Vegeta ever did.

He decided that he’d better start getting packed himself, but he found that he was tired, and for some reason, he just couldn’t do it.

He laid down in bed and passed out, his body holding back tears his mind desperately wanted to flow. He _wanted_ to cry, but he just couldn’t. He was still far too numb.

The next day he wakes up to the same issues. Nothing has changed. Nothing has been settled. Everything is still a mess. While he’s already made the decision to leave, something still doesn’t feel right in his heart, but he manages to start packing and finish planning, nonetheless.

Still, he spends the entire day holding out. Buying time.

What if Kakarot calls?

What if Trunks really does need him?

What about Bra, he never even said goodbye to her?

And Bulma? He didn’t want their last words to be in the form of a fight.

That afternoon, he decides to head over to Capsule Corp. again, hoping this time to catch Bulma in a better mood, or at least, with a little more free time.

Calling her, and texting her, he alerts her that he is outside of her house. She tells the guards to let him in begrudgingly but states once again that she is in no mood for him. She’s still just as busy as she had been the day before, and to top it off, Yamcha and her parents are around. Her parents were trying to stop any fires from getting started, and Yamcha was just sort of there, a calm outsider to all of this.

Vegeta told Bulma’s parents that it was good to see them, and he nodded at Yamcha, but he was in no mood to speak to any of the three of them, so he hurried off to find Bra instead. Trunks, however he’d managed to find out, notices that his father has stopped by, and he intercepts him. He seems to be eager to leave the wreckage that he obviously feels like he’s caused.

“Let’s take Bra to the park, huh, Dad? Summer’s not going to last much longer, and she’s been wanting to hang with me for a while… I promised I’d take her. We could all go together?” His son asked him somberly.

Vegeta smirked at him a little, impressed by his selflessness in this moment, never mind the fact that he was doing it for himself deep down. Vegeta asked Bra how that sounded. She was ecstatic.

It didn’t matter that Bulma called and texted him pissed that he’d left the house with their children the _day_ after she’d told him he couldn’t. She argued that she had plans to have dinner with her parents, Yamcha, and the kids, at some nice restaurant downtown. Vegeta bit his tongue at any remark he might have otherwise shared, and promised he’d have them home in time to get ready for dinner. She would get over it. She was going to have them all to herself after this. She just didn’t know it yet.

It didn’t matter that Bra was far too innocent and ignorant to catch what was going on, either. Vegeta would rather it be that way.

It didn’t even matter that Trunks was only using this as an excuse to get out of his own head for a little while. Trunks would have plenty of time to move on and learn from this over time.

It didn’t matter that Yamcha was replacing him. He was fairly certain the man was going to be a positive influence on the kid’s lives from what he could tell, and he was okay with that.

It didn’t matter that Vegeta wished he could call Kakarot and see what he was doing later. Kakarot and his sons were going to be far better off without him in their lives anymore after this.

Vegeta simply enjoyed this moment of peace. He enjoyed having both of his kids together for once. He enjoyed being able to spend at least some time with them. They seemed to enjoy it, too, even if they were mostly just focused on one another.

Even though Bra had no idea what was going on, and the sad smile on Trunks’ face as he played with his little sister spoke volumes to Vegeta’s soul, Vegeta refused to let the idea of him leaving bother him. He was thankful that he got to see both of his kids playing together, laughing, and smiling as they fought and teased one another. He committed it to his memory and held on to it tight.

When he dropped them back off at the house, neither Bra nor Trunks seemed to want to leave his side, but he told them to go on and get ready for dinner and that he didn’t want to hear that they complained even a peep. They agreed and went on their way, saying goodbye.

Vegeta wished he could tell him that he loved them, but maybe it was better that he didn’t.

When he found Bulma, he told her that their children were starving, that they wouldn’t be snubbing their noses up at the food offered to them, and that they would be ready for their fancy dinner date shortly. He couldn’t decide if he actually found himself funny, or if he was just hysterical.

Bulma, who was putting on her lipstick, eyed him from her vanity mirror. She couldn’t decide how angry she was with him at the moment, so she simply said, turning to look at him over her shoulder, “And are you going to be joining us tonight?”

“No,” Vegeta smirked, looking her over one last time, “No, I am not.”

“Fine,” Bulma replied, unaware, “Thanks for _trying_.”

Vegeta nodded curtly and left.


	20. 20

20

Another day passed in which Vegeta spent the entire time finalizing his plans. Now that everything with  his family was squared away, Vegeta was ready to move on and move away. Forever. In fact, all of his things are now packed, or what he planned on taking with him anyways. He’s taken all of his money out of the bank and closed the account. He’s already cancelled his gym membership. He has all of the statements from his bills ready to take with him in his briefcase so that once he gets to the hotel that he’s booked, which is about a half a day’s drive away from here, he can start cancelling everything. He’ll mail in a thirty-day notice to the apartment complex, break the lease,  _fuck the fee_ , and have movers from Capsule Corp. come and take his stuff out of the apartment within the week. They can pawn it all for all he cares. As long as they take all of Trunks’ things, which he’d placed in his room (including his gaming console which was still in the living room) back to Capsule Corp. in one piece, that’s all that matters.

He even has his flight booked from out of the city where he’ll be spending one night, and his passport on his person, too, because he might not have much of a plan in mind, yet, but he was thinking very seriously about leaving the country.

He’s said all he could say and done more damage than he could repair to his family at this point.

He didn’t know what he was going to do with his new life, but he knew that the first thing he’ll do when he arrives in his new residence is get a new phone with a new number. That way he won’t have to worry about anyone attempting to get a hold of him; certainly not his family, and especially not a particular someone who never called.

He’d spent all morning loading up his car. He wasn’t taking much, just a few suitcases full of clothes and his briefcase with his laptop in it. And some pictures- the memory book Bulma had made him- he had a feeling he was going to want that.

Doing a brief sweep one more time of his apartment to make sure that everything was shut off, he closed and locked the door behind him, holding on to his key for now. He’d be mailing that in with the lease and his notice soon enough.

He headed to his car with so much on his mind. Getting in, he started it up. He set the coordinates of his destination into his navigation and he was just about to change gears when his phone rang through his car speakers.

His heart skipped a beat. Who in the world is calling him right now?

He waited a second before a name popped up on the screen of his console and he looked at the ID of the caller in surprise.

…  _Gohan_ …? His brows furrowed. Why the hell is Gohan calling him?

He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to pretend he’d never seen it and just drive off and become a mystery to them all, but he just couldn’t ignore him. Aside from the fact that he used to work with him and that Gohan’s never been  _anything_ but professional and kind, he thought back on what’s been going on with Goten and what’s transpired with him and Kakarot, and he knew that he  _couldn’t_ just leave without answering his call. That would be… suspicious.

Vegeta hit the green button on his steering wheel. “Hello…” he stated, irritated, but also intrigued.

“Hey!” Gohan replied cheerfully.

Vegeta gripped the wheel a little harder. He couldn’t get over how much he reminded him of his father.

Gohan was explaining, “I’ve been meaning to call you for a while, now, but I’ve had a lot going on. I’m sure you knew that. And, well, to be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure if you wanted to talk to me, so I was a little nervous to call…”

Vegeta sat back in his seat as he heard Gohan’s soft voice surrounding him through his car’s system. Even his  _honesty_ was just like his father’s and Vegeta could only listen.

“So, I wanted to ask… Would it be too much trouble to meet up? Just the two of us? We could go grab a cup of coffee? My treat?”

Vegeta scoffed, “You’re not paying for my coffee.”

“So that’s a yes, then?” 

He could hear the smile in Gohan’s voice the same way he could hear it in Goku’s when he got that eager edge- the same excitement when he knew Vegeta was going to cave. 

How did he know Vegeta was going to cave, damn it?  _Was_ he going to give in and meet him? Vegeta sat there, thinking, processing, mulling over his decision. 

Two seconds ago, he was about to hit the road. He looked at the time on his dash. Only 9 am. He wavered longer in uncertainty.

_Two seconds ago, he was ready to hit the road!_

Vegeta took a deep breath, “What’s this about, Gohan? You’ve already got me on the phone, you can’t just say what’s on your mind and be done with it?”

“I’d rather talk about this in person if you don’t mind.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to talk about. He couldn’t help but wonder what was so important. What in the world was on this young man’s mind that he wanted to discuss with him in person at this very instant? Wasn’t he merely calling to tell him that Goten was doing okay, or something? Vegeta couldn’t be so sure.

He had to give it to him, though. He asked if he could call him, and then he actually followed through. His timing was impeccable, too. And Vegeta  _does_ want to know what he has to say.

Vegeta grunted, “Fine, did you have a place in mind?”

“Oh, yes,” Gohan answered, and he told him where to meet him, at one of the fancier breakfast joints in the city, right up Vegeta’s alley. Gohan said that he could be there in fifteen minutes.

Vegeta agreed to his offer and headed that way. It would take him twenty minutes to get there, himself, and he figured that, if nothing else, this would be a pleasant final meeting between the two of them.

Although… He wished it were Kakarot he was seeing instead.

Arriving at the restaurant, Vegeta spotted Gohan already seated at an outside table. He looked every bit the confident, handsome, and intelligent young man that Vegeta had first thought him to be when he’d met him some months ago. Nearly a year ago, now. Gohan was writing something down while looking over something on his phone. As he stopped writing to sip his coffee, Vegeta somehow knew that he was not completely unaware of his surroundings. There was something about the way that he sat, and the way he was facing, that let Vegeta know that he was indeed, a fighter himself. 

How had he never seen it before? Kakarot must have taught him. The thought made Vegeta a little somber at all the opportunity he’d missed, and that he knew he was going to miss.

Vegeta was let inside of the patio, and when he approached Gohan’s table, the young man looked up and smiled at him. 

Vegeta wished, yet again, that the smile he was seeing was Kakarot’s, but it was close enough to make him feel a little more settled about leaving, either way.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Gohan told him, “Please, sit,” and he gestured for him to have a seat across from him.

Vegeta sat down but stayed a good distance away from him. 

Gohan chuckled, and stated, “You look annoyed.”

“When do I not?” Vegeta raised a brow.

A waitress came and got Vegeta’s drink order, offering him a menu. He declined it, but Gohan insisted that they order something. Vegeta blinked, confused, but he nodded after a second and let Gohan order them a small appetizer of some pastries. The waitress went away quickly.

Gohan’s eyes homed in on his and he smiled gently while he said, “I’ve seen you look more at ease than  _this_ before, Vegeta. Everything okay?”

Vegeta’s eyes scanned the patio and all of its patrons before his gaze settled back onto Gohan. It’s true that he was uneasy, for multiple reasons, and it’s true that Gohan has seen enough of him to know the difference. Gohan didn’t need to know why he was uneasy though, so instead of commenting on it further, Vegeta said, “I’d like to make this quick, if possible. I have a personal schedule I’m trying to keep.”

“Oh?” Gohan asked, “Even on a Saturday? Well, I’m glad you could work me in.” 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at him. He tried to determine if Gohan had meant that sarcastically or not, but it wasn’t clear. Gohan smiled at him in a way that made Vegeta think that he wasn’t buying his line about not having the time for this. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease, assured of himself that Vegeta  _would_ have met him regardless of his schedule. He looked like he really did have something to say.

Vegeta couldn’t help but smirk at him as he thought, once again, that he is so much like Kakarot, only sharper in some ways. Lucky kid. 

“I know you’re wondering why I wanted to see you, and I know you don’t really like to mince words,” Gohan said, “So I’m just going to come right out and say it…” he took a moment to look back down at what he’d been writing, putting it off to the side, before he looked back up and said, “Did you know that Trunks and Goten are dating?”

It took a second for the question to settle in Vegeta’s mind. Then it took a second for Vegeta’s mind to wrap his head around the question. 

Gohan smiled, “You didn’t know, huh? Even though Goten says that he and Trunks haven’t told anyone, I kind of thought that maybe _you_ would have figured it out…”

Vegeta was silent as he considered Gohan’s words. The waitress brought him his coffee, but in his shock, he didn’t even look at her. Gohan thanked her for him. After she left, Vegeta said, in complete disbelief, “Are you fucking with me?”

Gohan laughed a genuine, hearty laugh. “No, not at all!” He told him, “I know, it’s a little crazy, right? But it’s true,” he nodded, “They’ve been dating for a while, now.”

Vegeta could only stare at him, until finally he said, “And you’re the only one they told?”

“Well,” Gohan grinned, “They didn’t exactly offer up the information. I figured it out on my own just a few weeks before the incident with Goten. When Goten woke up at the hospital, though, all it took was a little urging and he told me everything. Trunks was there. He confirmed it.”

_‘What, in the fuck, is “everything”?’_ Vegeta wondered, thoroughly taken aback.

Gohan seemed to understand Vegeta’s blank expression and he murmured, “I was surprised, too. Honestly. I mean, Trunks is constantly talking about girls and going on dates and…” he looked at Vegeta keenly before adding, “Goten’s been tagging right along with him.” He shrugged, “They put up quite a rouse, didn’t they?”

Vegeta snorted, “If that’s what you want to call it. You don’t know the half of it.” Vegeta couldn’t help but laugh at himself. Trunks  _has_ been acting strange recently… And perhaps there  _were_ signs…

Gohan grinned, “I can only imagine.”

Vegeta turned away from him as he tried to let this information settle and catch up to him. That little sneak of a son of his!

Gohan shifted back in his chair, looking at Vegeta curiously. Not at Vegeta curiously, in that he was confused by him, but at him  _curiously_ . He said, “That’s not all I wanted to tell you, and that’s not all I wanted to talk about. I hope you don’t mind. I lured you here knowing that this wouldn’t be a short conversation. Can you put your plans on hold for a little while longer than expected?”

Convinced, Vegeta smirked and said, “Absolutely.”

Gohan smiled, “Good, because I have a lot I want to say.”

“You better start sooner rather than later.”

Gohan chuckled, “I know, I know. You’re impatient and I’ve been holding out on you. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner than this… I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” He sighed, “I know I acted kind of weird the last time I saw you at Capsule Corp. I think I might have made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to,” he promised, “I just didn’t know how to tell you that I… I think of you as a mentor, I guess. You kind of remind me of my mom, except you’re way less pushy.” He laughed, “I think Goten feels the same way.”

“ _Less_ pushy?” Vegeta chuckled, and then, finally taking a sip of his coffee as he actually  _understood_ what he’d just said, he remarked, “You did  _not_ just tell me that I remind you of your mother!”

Gohan laughed at the outburst.

Scoffing, Vegeta added, “And you’re trying to call  _me_ a  _mentor_ ?! What is this, Gohan?” he shook his head, “Is this some kind of joke, because if so, I hope you’re enjoying your laugh now.”

Gohan raised his hands and exclaimed, “I’m being serious!”

Vegeta couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He was embarrassed and in disagreement. He told him, shutting the whole idea down, “Regardless of whatever similarities I apparently have to _your poor late mother_ , you and your brother don’t need a man like _me_ in your lives. Ask Trunks, he’ll tell you.”

“Oh, but I have talked to Trunks about you,” Gohan explained, his smile widening as he jolted Vegeta with his words once again. “I can see that you’re surprised. It was a good talk, I promise. I had a feeling you were going to try to deflect this conversation into something else… But hear me out for a minute, okay? Besides, I think you’d be surprised to know the number of conversations that I’ve had with Trunks and Goten about… all of this…”

“‘All of this’?” Vegeta remarked, suddenly nervous, “What the hell are you talking about?” There’s no way those two brats figured out the relationship between himself and Kakarot when  _he_ had no idea about  _them_ . Or maybe that’s  _why_ he had no idea about them…

The waitress brought the appetizer for them, and Gohan tells her thank you. She nods, says she’ll be back, and then walks away. Gohan looks over at Vegeta again and says, “You really don’t know what I’m talking about? I thought you’d be more aware of the situation by now…”

“Aware of  _what_ situation?” Vegeta asked pointedly.

Gohan laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head as he thinks about how he’s going to go about speaking his mind. He notices, though, when Vegeta’s eyes catch onto his habitual, copied gesture, and he smiles at him as he brings his hand back down.

“What?!” Vegeta growls.

Gohan takes a second to consider his next words, before he finally asks, “Did you know that our father is out of the country right now?”

“Out of the—” Vegeta’s eyes widen as he repeats those words before he can think better of his reaction. He sits up straight and tries to remain unmoved as he remarks, “No. I didn’t know that…” He wasn’t going to ask, but he can’t help but wonder, “Why is he so far away?” and he questioned if he was giving himself away, but he was desperate to know. This is his last chance to find out, after all.

Gohan looks blankly into his cup as he seems to be mulling over his own personal struggles and thoughts before he raises his eyes back to Vegeta’s and says, “He’s always going off like that. Off on another adventure. Sometimes for work. Sometimes for fun.”

Vegeta tried to remain indifferent, and, drinking a bit more of his own coffee, he said, “Yes, you did mention that he’s gone a lot…” 

Gohan smiled sadly, “Well, actually, he’s been absent most of mine and Goten’s lives.”

Vegeta  _knew_ he shouldn’t feel so side-lined by such information. He had suspected it before, but hearing it stated so bluntly… He hardly knew how he felt. What was the point in Gohan telling him this, anyways? And why in hell is Kakarot gone so often?

Expounding, the young man told him, “I’ve tried to rationalize it my whole life. To put my trust in him, and believe in him, even when I don’t agree with what he does. Not that he was ever doing anything  _wrong._ Goten and I both know our dad has been trying to be better as of late, and we’re happy about that much, but we could never really hate him for it to begin with. Besides, what we think doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s going to do what he wants to do…” he shrugged, “Our dad is a good man, Goten and I both know it. Our mom sure knew it, and she stuck by him even though he broke her heart every time he left. I think she stuck around more for the money than anything, and she just accepted the fact that he is how he is.”

“What do you mean by that… exactly?” Vegeta asked with unquenchable thirst for information.

“Hm?” Gohan smiled, again, “I mean, he’s amazing… But he’s always been so busy with his own things. He’s kind and considerate. Helpful and comforting. But he’s never around unless it’s the eleventh hour. And he somehow  _always knows_ when the eleventh hour is. It was either, ‘Hey, there’s this Martial Arts Tournament’ thing, or ‘Hey, I got offered to do this training’ thing, or ‘Hey, I gotta go off and save the lives of strangers’ thing… He definitely dances to the beat of his own drum, and he’s definitely accomplished a lot in his life, but he’s never had time for his own family. Not much time, anyways. It’s why I’ve prioritized my own so much. The only problem is that when he’s gone like this, no one can get a hold of him, and no one knows where he is except for his squad, and they don’t talk business. Oh, yeah, I didn’t exactly explain that part, he’s out on business right now. You know what he does for a living, right?”

_‘Out on… business…’_ Vegeta thought, and he felt so fucking stupid for never putting two and two together before. He shrugged and half-nodded noncommittally as a response, still piecing his thoughts together.

“He doesn’t like the job, it’s stressful, but he’s perfect for it. I think he’s addicted to it,” Gohan eyed Vegeta again, and asked, “I’m sure you understand, don’t you?”

“Hn?” Vegeta wondered, feeling strange about this conversation and his own reflections.

“You’re a fighter, too, aren’t you?” Gohan asked, drawing him away from his thoughts. He paused only so he could take a sip of his coffee as he looked Vegeta over before saying, “I saw you with those bruises a while back… Our first day together at Capsule Corp. I asked Bulma about it, I hope you don’t mind, it was just out of curiosity, and she told me a little bit about it. She said that fighting is the one thing you love in this world. It reminded me of my Dad. And I get that, sort of, there is definitely a rush to it, but… As hard as my father tried to get me involved in his passion, it was never for me…” 

“Hn,” Vegeta grunted at the lull in Gohan’s explanation, but he offered him nothing else.

Gohan didn’t seem to mind, instead he shared, “I know I shouldn’t be mad at my dad, or jealous of whoever he’s around right now, but sometimes I can’t help it. Goten and I have gotten used to it for the most part- having to share him with random people across the globe, constantly hoping that he’ll come back in one piece…” He sighs deeply.

“Your father can handle himself…” Vegeta remarked. He felt odd for saying it, he didn’t know  _why_ he’d said it, but he knew, somehow, that Kakarot was just fine.

Gohan nodded, “Yeah. You would know, right? I mean, you’ve sparred with him before; you know how good he is.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened in his surprise.

Gohan smiled, “He mentioned it to me when I asked him about some of his bruises. His normal sparring partners can’t touch him, so it’s unusual to see him hurt. He says you’re a great fighter, that you’re a real challenge for him, and that’s saying something.”

Vegeta looked away, unwilling to comment as he continued to let Gohan’s words sink in.

“Anyway, since my Dad is not around, Goten is staying with me for the time being. Just so I can keep an eye on him. You wouldn’t believe the struggle I had in convincing the doctors to let him leave with me. I had to show them our father’s work papers… And make so many phone calls…” he sighed again, “What a hassle.”

“Hn,” Vegeta grunted, shifting in his chair in discomfort and looking away as he drank his coffee. 

Gohan ignored his closed-off body language as he explained, “Not having Dad here has bothered my brother more than ever recently. Ever since Mom died. It bothers me, too, but I’ll be fine, I’ve got my own little family to concern myself over. Goten doesn’t have many friends, though. We were homeschooled for a long time, and we grew up in a very small town. It’s why I wanted to come to the city. When Dad decided to move him and Goten out here, Trunks was the first person to really warm up to him. It’s kind of sweet when you think about it, that Goten got the chance to come here, and that the two of them would fall in love.”

Still, Vegeta didn’t respond. He didn’t doubt that Goten and Trunks really  _have_ fallen in love. He didn’t even question why or how it happened. Kakarot is so nice and so wonderful that Vegeta fell for him effortlessly. Why  _wouldn’t_ Trunks be attracted to Goten’s gentle personality? 

Gohan hummed, breaking the silence again, and he said, “I think that Goten is moving on from all of the past issues with our Dad, though. He’s growing up, I mean, and learning to accept the things he can’t change. Slowly but surely. And while Dad says he’s going to be around more, and we  _have_ noticed a little bit of a change, he’s still obsessed with fighting.”

Vegeta didn’t know what to say in hearing all of this so he took another sip to keep himself from having to respond before he could think of what to say. From his perspective, he understood Kakarot’s decisions perfectly.  _How fucked up is that?_ Surely that’s not what Gohan wants to hear…

Gohan took his silence as an opportunity to take another drink as well before saying, “It makes sense that Goten would grow so attached to Trunks. And his family. He’s really embarrassed by what happened.”

“Embarrassed?” Vegeta wondered absently, still strumming through his own thoughts. Everything Gohan was saying made sense, and he didn’t find It strange that Goten would find it in himself to care for Bulma, either. He was happy for Trunks and Goten both.

“Yeah,” Gohan confirmed, “I think he hates the trouble he caused you guys.” Vegeta’s eyes turned to him in question at that, but Gohan simply said, “And while I agree, he and Trunks  _have_ caused a lot of trouble, and I was pretty stern with both of them about, I think that Goten is just too shy to say anything to you about any of this. Much less to thank you.”

Vegeta reached out for one of the pastries as a distraction, pulling it apart as he asked, trying to ignore his thoughts about Kakarot and about leaving, “Say anything to me about what?  _Thank_ me for  _what_ ?”

Gohan laughed, “To thank you for being there for him. He’s scared to tell you how much he likes you, since you’re so stern and serious all the time.”

Vegeta tutted, disbelieving, “No, Gohan. That’s the trauma talking.”

“I thought you might say that, but it’s not the first time my little brother and I have talked about you, Vegeta.”

Vegeta remarked, “You and Goten have no reason to be discussing me! Much less so deeply!”

“Really?” Gohan smiled, pushing back his glasses, “Goten says you’ve been good to Trunks and to him. And since they’re in a relationship and all, it is pretty important to know one another’s families…”

Vegeta scoffed, “They’re playing you for a fool! Painting a pleasant scene to deter you from investigating further! No, Gohan, they’re just saying what they think you want to hear since they had to admit their little secret!”

Smiling, Gohan shook his head, “I’m pretty sure they aren’t.”

“Then you’ve been successfully duped.”

“Says the man who didn’t know his son was dating his best friend, but I’m sure you were just distracted by your own relationship, right?”

Everything stopped for a moment, and after Vegeta got over his initial shock from that statement, he glared and rebutted, “You want to rephrase that?”

Gohan gave him a cheeky grin and answered, “Nope, I meant exactly what I said. Are you going to deny it?”

“Someone’s feeling awfully cocky today. I  _can_ kick your ass you know. Didn’t you just get finished telling me how good of a fighter your father  _supposedly_ thinks I am? You’re playing with fire, boy.”

Gohan laughed, “I’m just calling it like it is. I guess it’s just honest trait I inherited from my dad.”

Vegeta glared,  _almost_ amused.

“Look, your personal life isn’t really my business, I know that, and I’m well aware that you’re not exactly the comforting type- you definitely like to keep people at a distance- but at least you’re around. You don’t know how much that means to Goten. And to me.”

Vegeta balked but remained silent.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I think that you’re misinformed and that you’re less than an inch away from overstepping your boundaries.”

“Come on, Vegeta,” Gohan smiled, not afraid of his threats in the slightest, “I think that this cold-shoulder, callous, haughty-remarks thing you do is just a wall you put up. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask why you do it. And maybe,  _maybe_ it’s because I see the walls my dad puts up, so I’m familiar with how someone might try to keep people out, but I know that’s what you’re doing. Whether you want to admit it or not. But I see more to you than that. So do they. You should really give them a little credit. And I think that you should know that you  _have_ been a comfort to them, just by simply being  _there_ if they needed you.  _When_ they needed you.”

Vegeta sputtered, “Gohan, enough, you’ve got it all wrong, and I hate to be the one to put a damper on my own image here, but I’ll be the first to admit that I am  **not** father of the year.”

Gohan took a deep breath and sighed before he said, “Who are you comparing yourself to? None of us are perfect. But that reminds me… There’s something I’ve been a little confused about, and since I’m pretty sure I’ve passed that inch you suggested was my limit and turned it into a mile by now, I figure I can go ahead and ask you—”

“How brave!”

Smirking, Gohan went on to say, “When Trunks and Goten told me about their relationship, Trunks said that he was too afraid to tell you, but I’m not sure why. I mean, I thought you were gay. A-aren’t you? Unless I misunderstood that…”

Vegeta’s eyes widened once again. He couldn’t tell if his face was flushed with embarrassment or not, but if he had to guess, it definitely is.

Gohan’s keen eyes were on him as he said, “That’s why you told me not to talk to you at that meeting at Capsule Corp., isn’t it? I heard some of the rumors… And Videl told me what happened between you and Bulma, but I’m sure there’s more to it than what’s on the surface. I mean, you and Bulma seem to have a very good relationship. And you went out of your way to try to protect me at that meeting when you really didn’t need to. I’m not why you left, am I? You don’t think I had a crush on you, did you? I guess I was behaving kind of weird…”

“Gohan, no,” Vegeta shook his head, but his mouth had long since run dry and he couldn’t speak further to dispute it.

Leaning closer, Gohan stated, “I saw you looking around when you first got here, too. You didn’t want to see me in person like this because you didn’t want anyone to think anything, did you?” he waited for a second for a response that he knew he wasn’t going to hear. Then he said, “I don’t care about stuff like that, if it makes you feel any better. Besides, you never gave me that impression. I never felt uncomfortable around you. And who cares what other people think? And anyways, I assure you this would not be the first time I’ve had to deal with other people’s scrutiny. Maybe not for matters like this, but…” He laughed.

“You don’t think you’re being very cavalier right now?” Vegeta asked, eyes narrowing.

“No! I don’t!” He smiled, “You’re in a relationship! Which brings me to my next point!” 

Vegeta sucked in a breath sharply, inaudibly.

Gohan’s smile broadened, “I have to know! If I ask you, will you tell me the truth?”

“That depends…” Vegeta tensed, still holding his breath.

“What if I just state my case and I happen to guess it right, will you deny it?”

“Try me…” Vegeta rebutted nervously, finally letting go out the breath he knew he couldn’t hold in forever.

“I think you know what I’m going to say,” Gohan teased.

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Vegeta ground out, jaw clenching in anticipation.

Gohan grabbed one of the pastries for himself, and he chuckled as he ripped it in half and took a bite, milking the moment, or gathering some courage. Vegeta took a second to take a bite into the one that had practically melted into his fingertips. There was a brief moment of silence between them.

Then Gohan said, “My Dad doesn’t tell me a lot of things… but he mentioned that he was seeing someone…” Vegeta looked away. Gohan smirked, “It  _is_ you, isn’t it?”

“Gohan,” Vegeta growled, and he opened his mouth to attempt to shut the conversation down at once.

Gohan ignored him, “He didn’t tell me much about who he was seeing. I figured it out on my own, so don’t be mad at him. I guess you guys want to try to keep it on the downlow for your own reasons, but I had a feeling that something was up between the two of you. He mentioned sparring with you and then he said he was really looking forward to seeing you again. And when I first met you, you two had already met, and I noticed that something seemed a little weird between you then—”

“Gohan!”

Gohan laugh softly, reminiscing, “It’s actually kind of funny when I think back on it. It took me a while to figure it out, too, if it makes you feel any better. He’s not exactly forthcoming about his life, but he’s usually pretty straightforward when I ask him something. He got really nervous whenever I asked him about why he’s been in such a good mood, recently, which made me question his hesitation to tell me about it all the more.”

“As if he’s ever  _not_ in a good mood!” Vegeta snipped before he could think better of it.

“Oh, who’s being fooled, now, Vegeta?” he grinned, “Believe it or not, he’s not always smiling. Trust me. He’s had a tough life, and every once in a while, I catch him a little pensive; a little sad even. You just haven’t known him all that long.”

Vegeta wondered at that, amazed to hear it. He  _never_ would have thought that Kakarot’s life has been anything but sweet and simple. Well, except for losing his wife… Wait. Just how much about Kakarot does he really not know?

“Man!” Gohan hummed, “This is so crazy! You know, Vegeta, I would have never put two and two together had it not been for the fact that whenever he and I met for lunch or dinner in the past couple of months, he seemed to smile into his phone the same way you were smirking into yours. And the little bit of information he did give me when he told me he was seeing someone… Well, I got the feeling that it was someone I knew. And that night that I saw him outside of Atera; he  _never_ would have gone to a place like that for dinner if it hadn’t been for you. He’s who you were meeting, wasn’t he? I’m sure of it. The more I think about it, the more I can see that you two have a lot in common. It makes so much sense for you to be together.”

Vegeta countered immediately, “Again with the presumptions!”

“Huh?”

“We aren’t seeing each other anymore, Gohan! Drop it now and don’t bring it up, again!”

“But,” Gohan blinked, “Why not?”

“It’s none of your concern!” Vegeta fumed frantically.

“That’s true, I guess, but I was kind of hoping for a confirmation…”

“Why?!” Vegeta cried, alarmed, although, his voice was gruff and hardly able to be heard.

Gohan smiled at him, “If anyone can handle my Dad’s quirky ways it’s you, Vegeta,” he chuckled, “I was hoping that maybe you’d be the one to actually keep him grounded for once. That maybe you can teach him what it means to stick around… Not that you can change him or anything, but you know what I mean. Everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it?”

Mortified, Vegeta dropped the other half of his pastry and wiped his hands free angrily on a napkin as he exclaimed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You couldn’t be further from the truth. This is all wrong! I can’t believe I’m even discussing this with you right now. You shouldn’t be so concerned with your father’s business.  _Or mine._ Kakarot is—”

“I know he’s not perfect,” Gohan admitted, interrupting him, “But I thought you seemed happy. Him, too. I guess I brought it up too late… I should have said something sooner… Then maybe you wouldn’t have broken it off with him.”

“I didn’t!” Vegeta choked, “I…” he swallowed and looked away.

“What…? Did he say he was going to call, and he never did?” Gohan wondered.

Vegeta glared at him.

“Figures. He probably didn’t tell you much about his job, either, huh?”

Vegeta had no words. He’d been so busy trying to keep Kakarot away this whole time! And for what? Just to fall for him, anyways?! Just to wind up being the one who was contentedly ignorant in the relationship for once?!

“I knew it,” Gohan frowned, his pout reminding Vegeta so much of Goku. Gohan urged gently, “Give him a chance, Vegeta… Please? I’m sure he’ll be back, soon. He’s not the greatest when it comes to communicating. He can talk about  _most_ things, sure, but _willingly?_ Haha! No way…”

Baffled by this chance meeting, and all of this new information that he really shouldn’t even care about at this point, Vegeta couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Aren’t you… upset about this?”

“About what?” Gohan wondered, adjusting his glasses again, “About my Dad being in a new relationship after my mom passing? Why would I be? It’s been a while, and he deserves his happiness.”

“No,” Vegeta shook his head, “Not about that…”

Gohan took a second to try to decode Vegeta’s question before something clicked and he asked, “You mean… about him seeing  _you_ ? Or him seeing a man?”

“Both. Either. Whatever,” Vegeta breathed, heart pounding away in his chest.

“No!” Gohan answered, surprised by the question, “I like  _you_ very much, Vegeta. And while I didn’t  _know_ that my dad was into men, I don’t think it’s all too  _shocking_ . He’s always struck me as the kind of person to fall for someone for  _them_ not their gender. He’s never shown any type of prejudice against things like that.”

Beside himself and fighting off the spark of hope that Gohan was trying to ignite, Vegeta insisted, “Regardless- It’s not what you think!”

“Hm?”

Vegeta confessed quietly, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I don’t blame him for not calling. It wasn’t his job that caused it. And it was never just about a stupid phone call in the first place. And! I’m not going to talk about this with you right now. Or ever.  _Never._ I have to  _go_ , Gohan. Do you understand?” he tried desperately to explain, “I  _have_ to  _go_ .”

“Please don’t,” Gohan argued, not understanding, but not accepting that answer, either way, “Stay and have breakfast with me. We don’t have to talk about my Dad anymore, but I’d like to talk a little bit more about Trunks and Goten,” he chuckled, “I don’t have anyone else to discuss this with until they decide to fess up to it, and it’s been on my mind  _a lot_ .”

“Gohan…” Vegeta felt that he was trembling, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Please?” Gohan asked, tilting his head openly, “I was kind of hoping you were going to explain this whole rehab mess to me that Bulma’s been talking about.”

“Augh!” Vegeta threw his napkin on the table and cried, “What the hell is she thinking?! They were just being kids!”

“I know! And they’re good kids. Well, at least most of the time, yeah? It was an accident, and Trunks feels bad enough about it, I think. Maybe if Bulma knew…”

“I’m not outing my child,” Vegeta growled.

“I’m not saying that you should,” Gohan agreed, “But I just don’t think it’s the right decision. Then again, I’m not in her position. Fame and fortune come at a cost; I suppose.”

“So does being poor and unimportant,” Vegeta argued.

Gohan nodded and smiled thoughtfully, “I’m sure that you’re right…”

The waitress came back to the table, interrupting them, and asked them if they would like anything else.

Gohan questions Vegeta, “Can you stay much longer? I know you’re on a time crunch.”

He hesitates, but ultimately, he shakes his head, “No, Gohan… I can’t,” and his heart clenched in his chest as he said it.

“I’ll take the check,” Gohan tells the waitress.

“Gohan,” Vegeta says sternly. The waitress leaves anyway.

“Go ahead and go,” Gohan nods at him, “I understand you have plans… I really didn’t mean to keep you. I guess that was a bit selfish of me. I am my father’s son, after all,” he grinned.

Vegeta didn’t know what to say to that. He simply stood up from the table to leave. He  _needed_ to leave.

Gohan joined him in standing and said, nearly whispering, “Give it another chance with my Dad, Vegeta. I’m sure keeping it a secret from everyone has been hard, especially keeping it from Trunks and Goten, but, if you want my opinion, to hell with what other people think. Besides, I know you well enough to know that you probably  _love_ the irony there.”

Vegeta smirked and answered, “Your enthusiasm is  _almost_ contagious, and while I appreciate the sentiment and your support is… nice… It was never my decision to make.”

Gohan chuckled, offered him his hand, and he said, “Ahh, I see… You threw the ball in his court and he didn’t immediately make a play, huh?”

“ _Gohan!_ _Enough!_ ”

His grin grew, “Don’t be fooled by him, Vegeta. You might have to make him talk, but I think you can manage. Besides, false pretenses can’t last forever, you know.” 

Vegeta stood still, overwhelmed by this conversation, but he reached out to shake his hand and said, “There’s still a bit of a philosopher in you, yet.”

“Always!” Gohan smiled.

“If you stick around Bulma for too much longer and she’ll tear it out of you and replace it all with scientific bullshit.”

“Never,” Gohan promised. Pulling his hand away, he told him, “Goodbye, Vegeta.”

Vegeta nodded and left, calm on the outside, but be freaking the fuck out on the inside. By the time he got to his car he was ready to flee the city and flee the city he did.

The only problem was that it didn’t feel right. The further away he got, the more tense he became. He didn’t have a shred of relief within him. 

He thought that he would.

He kept telling himself that he was just over-exerted from everything. He kept telling himself that he’d had too much coffee. He kept telling himself that this is the right thing to do. 

He kept on driving.

And his thoughts kept on whirring,

He kept thinking of Gohan’s words. Of Trunks’ handsome face. Of his little girls bright, shining eyes. Of Bulma’s intelligent grace. Of Kakarot.

He keeps driving, still, hoping that it would clear his mind. Hoping that this feeling in his chest would cease. Hoping that once he gets to the next city over, he’ll feel a little better knowing that it’s all behind him, now.

When he reaches the next city, only an hour into his seven-hour drive, he doesn’t feel any better. He feels so much worse.

Gohan’s words circle over and over again in his mind. 

The new knowledge of his son in an  _actual relationship with another_ **_boy_ ** wouldn’t quit pestering at him. Not that he minded that one bit, but there was a lot there to unpack. 

The idea of Bra, waiting and waiting and waiting for him to come home, only to be left in waiting indefinitely. 

The slew of curses his wife would be sending out into the universe at him over this once she realizes what he’s done. 

Kakarot…

Vegeta can’t get any of it out of his mind, but he keeps on driving, still trying to convince himself that this  _is_ the right thing to do.

If it IS, then why does he feel so fucking horrible about it?!

He’s felt  _nothing_ for weeks on end until now. He’s felt detached and useless and absent, but not now. Now he feels… He  _feels_ … incomplete.

Why can’t he get Gohan’s words out of his head?! Why did he have to call him right  _then_ ? And tell him all of  _that_ ?

It isn’t until he thinks of everything a little deeper, finally opening up all of those doors he’s kept closed for so long, blasting out the fog, shattering all the mirrors, that he realizes what he should have seen all along: Gohan called him because he wanted to  _talk to someone_ and he, for some odd and inexplainable reason, thought that he could talk to  _him_ .

Why didn’t he stay when he’d offered? He wanted to! He could have easily stayed and just  _listened._ And Gohan  _knew_ , he knew about him and Kakarot and he knew about Vegeta’s past and he didn’t  _care_ . He wasn’t bothered or even fazed! He actually seemed happy about their relationship! Genuinely so… And he seemed to think that Trunks wasn’t half as disgusted with him as he thought…

Vegeta suddenly realized that he’s been so blind! Trunks has been trying to have a relationship with him this whole time! All those fights- all that needling from him- he just wanted to get to know him! He just wanted to find out some answers to help him through his own confusion and doubt! This whole time! This whole time Vegeta could have been trying to help him! He could have been trying to set a better example for him! He could have been trying to get to know him!

And Bra! All she  _ever_ wanted was to spend some time with him! She talked about Yamcha because she wanted to  _share_ with him, not replace him! She was looking for his approval! His support! She just wanted him as an audience!

And  _Bulma_ ! That woman needs him more than she realizes! That woman can’t just rely on  _Yamcha_ to help raise two children who were FAR from grown and WELL out of  _Yamcha’s_ league of intelligence! No offense to him, but his kids are downright INCREDIBLE people and Vegeta would be DAMNED if he allows Bulma’s inconsistent and CONSTANTLY BUSY habits to ILLOGICALLY decide on her own what’s best for them when SHE HARDLY HAS THE ATTENTION SPAN FOR THEM AS IT IS!

Vegeta cut off the car behind him to take the next exit ramp because he is NOT going to become his father! 

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have a thing or two to say to Kakarot when that man gets back from wherever the hell he is! 

He decides he doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks anymore!

It was going to take him two full hours to get back into the city, but he was going back to the city, whether the city liked him or not. And he was heading straight to Capsule Corp. to give Bulma a piece of his mind.

He was shaking all over, running off pure adrenalin the whole ride back into town. His body felt as though it was in overdrive. And it wasn’t from too much coffee. It wasn’t from doubt. It wasn’t from confusion or delusion or some mysterious force beyond his reckoning. It was from pure, unadulterated honestly and truth and respect for himself for ONCE in his fucking life.

He still has a say in his own fucking life. He has a say in his own fucking future. He has a say in his kid’s lives, too, and he was going to do  _everything_ that he could to protect them, to prepare them, and to love them, to the best of his abilities, as shoddy as those may be. 

When he finally pulls up to Capsule Corp., he gets out of his car, and heads to the balcony instead of the front door. It’s a little-known fact that the balcony is almost  _always_ unlocked, and he was not about to get treated like a fucking stranger in this home. He knows that the goons Bulma had looking out for security breaches have probably noticed him already, and he  _wished_ they would try to stop him.

He bypassed Mr. and Mrs. Briefs with a short nod before he carried on, heading to the one location in the home that he knew Bulma would be before he’d find her anywhere else: her labs. He typed in the security code that  _never_ changed because Bulma does not have the time or the headspace to reprogram and remember a new one, and he waltzed right in.

Trunks was there with her, peering over his mother’s shoulder as she was speaking to him about something. The boy looked up in surprise, but the look on Vegeta’s face must have told him to remain silent because he didn’t dare utter a word.

“Hey, Dad,” Bulma said, assuming that it was Doctor Briefs who’d just come in before even turning around, “Could you help me find something really quick—”

“I can help you find something,” Vegeta growled, “Your fucking common sense!”

“What the—” She spun around quickly, “Vegeta! How the hell did you even get in here?! And how dare you talk to me like that?!”

“You’re going to listen to me, now, and you’re going to do exactly as I say!” Vegeta bellowed, “Trunks is coming back home with me! And you are NOT putting him in rehab!”

“Vegeta!” Bulma yelled back, putting her hands on her hips, “I already told you that you don’t get to have a say in this!”

“Like hell I don’t!” Vegeta argued, “He’s a teenager, Bulma! Not an addict! I know the fucking difference!”

Haughtily, she replied, “Yeah, you do! Because  _you—_ ”

“Because I’ve seen what an addict looks like! I’ve seen what an addict  _does_ ! You want to cause  _more_ problems for our son, then send him there! Let him be surrounded by other teenagers with  _real_ life problems! With  _real_ addictions! Those kids are the lucky ones, though, aren’t they?! Because their parents can  _afford_ to send them there in the first place! No! I will absolutely  _not_ stand for it!

“Do you know how much death I’ve seen caused by an  _actual addict_ , Bulma? Do you know how much heartache I’ve witnessed from kids,  _younger than him_ , that drank their lives into a coma  _on purpose_ ?! Or WORSE! No, you don’t! Because I never told you about it!

“I always thought that sharing my past with you would only cause grief, but I’ve realized that I should have been more open about what I’ve been through if it would help our kids not have to make the same mistakes,” he shifted his gaze to Trunks and said, “I hate that I kept my past from you both, but I just didn’t see  _sharing_ it making things better for anyone here! I was wrong about that.”

“Vegeta…” Bulma quivered, still angry, but in too much surprise to speak her mind.

“Bulma,” Vegeta said, lowering his voice, “You know that my father walked out on me… I will not walk out on Trunks or Bra, and I will not walk away from them, either. I know that you think that putting him in there is going to make it seem as though he’s ‘getting the help that he needs’ but all it’s going to do is give him a complex of thinking that he needs help when he doesn’t. You think you’ll be helping his reputation, but you’ll be ruining it. I’ve thought this through. I know that I’m right. Tell your PR to shut the fuck up and back off, and if they  _must_ run a story on it, then tell them the fucking truth! Trunks was heroic! He saved Goten’s life! And in case you are unaware, he feels terribly about the whole ordeal! He’s been through enough.”

“Vegeta—”

“You’re not going to postpone his college for something so ridiculous. Any business that’s heard of him before, which will be all of them, will forever have him egregiously labeled as an addict and a former rehab patient and  _that_ will affect his future more than simply letting this slide! Think about what I’m saying for two fucking seconds, Bulma! You’re not sending him there! Let the kids who need it be the ones to get the help. Trunks  _and_ Goten are perfectly normal!”

Trunks’ eyes widened at that statement and Vegeta looked at his son for a moment before he eased up and lowered his voice.

“Are you done?!” Bulma growled, upset but clearly listening to him.

Vegeta glared at her and added, “I know you like having him here, but in less than two months he’ll be free to come and go as he pleases, and he  _will_ be coming here far more often than not, I assure you. I’m not willing to give up my time with him yet. Any and all time that I have left…”

“Dad…” Trunks muttered, but he stayed where he was and just listened. 

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest but didn’t reply.

“You’re a brilliant woman, Bulma,” Vegeta told her, “and I give you credit for every good quality in both of our children, but there are some things that you aren’t capable of giving them, and you know it. You know damn well that you are every bit as absent as I am. You are just as short-tempered and just as hard-headed, and I admire all of those qualities about you, but this time, you’re not going to snap your fingers and have your way on a whim that you haven’t even thought through because you’re too obsessed with maintaining your image and acquiring whatever the newest, latest, and greatest is.”

Bulma’s open-mouthed stare turned into a tight-lipped glare at that but she didn’t reply.

“Trunks and Bra love you, and I know that I’m not the best father in the world, but I do try, and I’m not going to be a weekend parent anymore just because I have been too afraid to make a bad impression on our kids.”

A knock came to the door of her labs just then. “Ms. Briefs? Ms. Briefs? There’s been a security breach!”

Bulma rolled her eyes and headed forward to answer it, crying out, “Yes, I know! He’s in here! You’re a little late, don’t you think?! I don’t know why you even bother!” she opened the door to them.

“Oh,” the guard flustered upon seeing Vegeta’s face, “Ma’am!” He called, “Not him, Miss! We, um, we didn’t see him come in!” One of the men said.

The other spoke, “The suspect in question is being apprehended now, Ms. Briefs! Caught him snooping around in Sector Z.”

“Sector Z! But!” Bulma cried, Vegeta completely forgotten, “Call the police! I want him cuffed, fingerprinted, searched, and questioned at once!”

“Ma’am!” They cried and then ran away.

Bulma turns back around to Vegeta and says, “This conversation isn’t over, you know.”

“That’s fine,” Vegeta nods.

She looks at Trunks and sighs, “But I think you’ve made a good point. I don’t think that Trunks needs to go to a rehabilitation center…” 

“Mom, really?” Trunks asked, relief washing over him

She nods curtly and states, “I have to go take care of this…” before she gives Vegeta a stern look and then turns and walks away briskly.

“Dad…” Trunks starts.

“Don’t,” Vegeta tells him, “You don’t  _have_ to come back to my place if you don’t want to… But I… I couldn’t forgive myself if you wound up somewhere you don’t belong.”

Trunks was speechless.

Vegeta backed away and told him, “… I am going to go… I’ll see you around…” and he left quickly.

When Vegeta does get back to his apartment, he carries his bags back up the stairs and places them in his room. He opens them and just lets everything sit there, spilling over onto the floor. He wanted to put everything away and not think about the crazy thing he almost did today. He wanted to place it all neatly back where it went and pretend that he hadn’t attempted to run away like a child. He wanted to ignore the fact that he  _had_ to put them away and that he wouldn’t have to do that if he hadn’t been so small-minded to begin with. He couldn’t do any of that, though.

It was time that he started facing his problems instead of hiding from them. He left them out as a reminder to himself of how foolish he’d been. He intended to put them away eventually, but for now, he was keen to look at them and think about just how easily he might have thrown everything away.

He laid down in his bed and found sleep quickly. Much quicker than he would have in some stuffy hotel room.


	21. 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My self control is out of control. Here's the next chapter. I'm doing it for YOU :D

21

The next morning Trunks comes home. Vegeta is sitting in the kitchen drinking his usual cup of coffee when Trunks comes through the door. Reading the news on his phone, he glances up at his son, but doesn’t say anything to him. He’s had a lot on his mind, and although something inside of him has changed, allowing that change to manifest into something more vocal was not coming easily to him.

Still, he was going to try.

“Hey…” Trunks said quietly, a few items in tow, but not as much as he’d taken with him over to his mother’s made it back to Vegeta’s home. That didn’t bother Vegeta one bit. At least he was here, and at least he seemed to be in a much better mood, even his posture alone said that much.

Under any other circumstances Vegeta would have been pleased with the simple hello and let Trunks go into his room or whatever, but Vegeta wasn’t about to let Trunks try to get out this without an actual conversation, not now that he knew what he really going on.

“Sit,” he told him.

Trunks had been on his way to his room when Vegeta had said it, but the moment the young man heard the command he stiffened and backtracked, dropping his bags and coming to sit at the dining room table obediently although a bit reluctantly.

The young man looked up at his father shyly. “What’s up?” he asked, now wearing his usual, I-may-or-may-not-be-guilty face, or more precisely, his am-I-in-trouble-or-not charming smile.

Vegeta gave him a blank stare, then looked away from him and took a second to finish reading the article he’d started before he set his phone down. When he looked up at him again, his eyes pierced Trunks in a way that made the young man squirm in his chair. Vegeta smirked, “You have some explaining to do.”

“Aww, Dad, really?” Trunks scoffed, looking off to the side, away from Vegeta’s scrutinizing yet somewhat amused glare.

“Yes. Really,” Vegeta insisted.

Trunks pouted, leaned back, and crossed his arms over his chest, “What do you want to know?”

Vegeta copied Trunks’ body-language, a language his son had learned from himself, and he replied, “What do you think I _should_ know?”

“Uhh…” hesitation was so strange on his son, but at least this felt like somewhat familiar territory, “I mean, we were drinking and—”

“No, no,” Vegeta shook his head, “Not about that.”

“Umm…” Trunks squirmed again, his brows pulling together as he tried to think of what else Vegeta could possibly want him to talk about. “We… talked pretty recently…”

“We…?” Vegeta smirked.

“Yeah…?” Trunks said, “Goten and I…?”

“You and Goten?”

“Yes…?” Trunks muttered and if Vegeta hadn’t _already_ known, he might not have noticed the faint blush across Trunks’ cheeks or the way he seemed to shrink in his chair just a hair.

“What about you and Goten?” Vegeta pressed.

“I…” he squawked, “What _about_ me and Goten?”

Vegeta chuckled. Trunks’ hesitation was understandable he supposed, but honestly, he found it downright hilarious that his son was still playing dumb.

The pink across Trunks’ cheeks only grew. Then came the flustered, mock-angry, half-denial. “What’s so funny?!” His son said, “What?!”

Vegeta shook his head. He couldn’t torture the poor boy forever. Well, he could, but there wouldn’t be much fun in it. He told him, “This whole time you really had me fooled. I have to give it to you. I’m kind of impressed. You used the most classic con techniques in the book, and I fell for each and every one of them. Of course, I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been so damn distracted with my own things.”

Trunks didn’t dare utter a reply to that, but his eyes did widen in guilt.

“You still don’t want to say it?” Vegeta wondered, but he had a better reason to try and get his son to talk than any convenience of embarrassing him.

Trunks was still silent. Vegeta knew that he was thinking about whether or not he _really_ knew about him and Goten, and he was probably trying his best to think of _any_ conceivable way to get out of this without damning himself into saying it first.

Vegeta never did have any patience, though. He told his son, “I know.”

“Know what?” Trunks asked in his most innocent voice.

Vegeta’s smirk only widened, “Do you want to know _how_ I know?”

Trunks’ face was beat red by now, but being the sly young man that he is, he didn’t respond.

“One word,” Vegeta chuckled, “Name, actually. Can you guess who?”

Trunks’ rolled his eyes and cursed, unable to hold his hardly convincing poker face, “I _knew_ we couldn’t trust him!”

Vegeta burst out in laughter, “Why in the world you ever thought you could is completely beyond me!”

“What the hell does that mean?!” Trunks sniped, too embarrassed to be calm, so he was still angry and flustered by default.

“You yourself said that you thought Gohan and I were a thing- So why would you think that you could tell him something like _that_ and he wouldn’t tell me?!”

“Wait!” Trunks cried, “I thought you said you two _weren’t_ a thing?!”

“We’re not,” Vegeta agreed, “Never were and never could have or would have been, but at least one of you three brats respects me.”

Trunks scoffed, “Respect?! You think that’s why he told you! He didn’t tell you out of respect!”

“Then why did he?” Vegeta asked curiously.

“I don’t know! And I don’t want to talk about this!” He stood up from his chair, ready to run.

“Sit,” Vegeta commanded for the second time.

Trunks paused and then plopped back down eyes averted yet again.

“Talk.”

“About what?!” his son wined, placing his face in his hands.

“I want you to say it,” Vegeta admitted.

“Say _what?!_ ” Trunks retorted, taking his hands away, but still stubborn as always.

“You _know_ what. Say it.”

“Why?!” Trunks bitched, throwing his head back, far too embarrassed to give in so easily.

“ _Say it_ ,” Vegeta said, his voice turning a little sterner.

Trunks ran a hand through his hair, shook his head, looked at his father, looked away, looked down at the table, bounced his knee, placed his hands on the table, licked his lips, made the most exasperated sigh he possibly could, and then _finally_ he said, “Okay! Fine! Goten and I are… dating. There! You happy?! Damn!”

Vegeta smirked, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Trunks’ eyes looked up into his father’s again, and now feeling much less pressured than a moment ago, he asked him, “What’s the big deal, anyways? Why’d you want me to say it so bad? And… why didn’t you tell Mom?”

“How do you know I didn’t?” Vegeta remarked shortly.

“ _You told Mom?!_ ”

“Relax!” Vegeta chuckled, still thoroughly amused, “I didn’t tell your mother. You’re responsible for doing that.”

Trunks heaved another great sigh. It seemed to come out of irritation, but Vegeta knew that it was out of relief. Trunks looked at his father again and asked, straightening his shoulders, “Okay, so… What now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… What _now_? What do you want to know? What am I supposed to say now that you know that I’ve been lying to you? What am I _supposed_ to be telling you? Like… how much I love him… Or something? …”

Vegeta’s eyes softened at that, but he didn’t respond.

“Are you mad?” Trunks gestured, “I mean… Aren’t you at least _annoyed_? I’m sure you think I’m pretty fucking pathetic,” he shrugged.

“Why would I think that?” Vegeta asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Because I lied to you!”

“Why _did_ you lie to me?”

“I don’t know!”

“Really?”

Trunks looked away again. It took some time, but eventually he muttered, “I was just scared… Not of you… but of… me…”

“Because of me,” Vegeta nodded.

“No,” Trunks denied.

“Yes,” Vegeta insisted, “Because of me…”

Trunks looked up at his father. His intelligent mind was working through his adolescent thoughts. Vegeta could see him considering everything. Trunks breathed deep and said, “Was what you told Mom true?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“I…” his son hesitated, “I didn’t know that… about your dad… Mom never told me.”

“I told her not to,” Vegeta explained, “If you were ever going to find out, I wanted it to be from me, but I didn’t think I’d ever tell you…”

“You weren’t going to tell me about your brother, either…?” Trunks assumed, and then he asked, his voice a little softer, “What changed?”

Vegeta grunted and replied, “I learned a valuable lesson.”

Trunks’ eyes were muted from their normally steely gaze. “Father, I…” Trunks swallowed, still processing, but at least attempting to speak. When he did, he said something Vegeta wasn’t expecting: “I _do_ respect you, Dad.”

Vegeta didn’t know what to say to that.

Trunks shook his head and looked away from him, admitting, “I _wanted_ to tell you. About me and Goten. But I thought that you might…”

“Be disappointed?”

“… Yeah…”

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know…” Trunks answered quietly, folding his arms across himself.

“Just because I have a hard time with relationships doesn’t mean that you have to be the same way,” Vegeta explained and _fuck_ it felt so good to say that, and to _know_ that it was true.

Trunks was still blushing, but he didn’t reply.

Vegeta told him, “I don’t care who you love, Trunks. As long as you don’t put them in dangerous situations, or vice versa—”

“You _had_ to bring that up—” Trunks replied, igniting with the same passion Vegeta loves seeing in him so much.

Vegeta chuckled, “Apparently Gohan already had a pretty serious conversation with the two of you about that, though, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Trunks nodded, glancing away, “He did…” Then he looked up at his father again, and wondered, “Why _did_ he tell you about us?”

“You think I’m lying to you about him?”

“No… I never thought it was him that you were seeing… But…”

“But…?”

Trunks’ eyes were on his heavy now, and he wondered, “But I didn’t know that you two were close at all…”

“We’re not, not really. Gohan had his reasons for telling me, though.”

“But you _called_ him that night. At one o’clock in the morning.”

Vegeta shrugged, “I had to call someone to come out there. Kakarot wasn’t answering his phone.”

Trunks rolled his eyes, “Goku is _always_ gone.”

“… I’ve heard…”

“No, you don’t understand,” Trunks shook his head, “I mean, he’s a super chill guy and all- I like him a lot- but it was rare to really _see_ him or have him around. The few times that he was there, it was usually just for a few minutes at a time. Goten says that he’s always been that way.”

“So did Gohan…”

“I don’t get that guy…” Trunks shook his head, “I mean… He’s so hard to read…”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be read…”

“I guess so… Hey, you guys have a lot in common, huh?”

“I suppose…” Vegeta grunted and he couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Trunks shifted again. A somewhat comfortable silence came between them. Then suddenly Trunks smirked and remarked, “So, I got you pretty good, huh?”

Vegeta’s smirked widened and he retorted, “Yes, well. Too bad _you_ weren’t so clever.”

“Whatever,” Trunks answered, “You didn’t figure it out. Gohan told you.”

“And I didn’t even have to ask,” Vegeta remarked smoothly.

“Wait a minute! I _asked_ you! You never told me about the guy that _you’re_ seeing! Who is he?!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vegeta declined.

“It totally does! I want to meet him!”

“That’s up to him,” Vegeta told him honestly, “I’m not sure if we’re even still together anymore.”

“Not _sure_?!” Trunks cried, “What the hell kind of cryptic bullshit is that?”

Vegeta smirked and stood up from the table.

“Hey!” Trunks hollered, “That’s not fair! You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation!”

“Yes, I can,” Vegeta replied playfully.

“Does _Gohan_ know?!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“That’s _garbage_!” Trunks laughed, standing up to follow him.

“I’ll tell you what, when you can beat me in a fight, then I’ll start telling you things,” Vegeta snarked.

Trunks balked and replied, “You’re gonna be too old to fight one day, Dad! And you might regret those words!”

“Try me…” Vegeta chuckled.

“Okay, how about right now? I heard you got some moves!” Trunks said, squaring up with him.

Surprised by the offer and the off-handed compliment, Vegeta wondered, “Who told you that?”

“Goku,” Trunks smirked.

Vegeta chuckled, and remarked, “That man…” under his breath as he shook his head. Squaring his shoulders, he took a stance, “Alright, if you really want me to show you a few things. We’ll start with low strikes and simple combos. All fists for now, rookie. Let’s see if you can hit me. If you can I’ll buy you and Goten dinner.”

“Yeah? You’re on!” Trunks grinned. 

Vegeta couldn’t resist. Their conversation had his blood pumping overtime, and ever since Gohan had talked about how he’d trained under his father, Vegeta wondered why he’d never tried to train Trunks. He didn’t want to let this opportunity pass him by.

They had to move the living room coffee table out of the way in order to really get into, and Vegeta was quick to go in circles around his lively son, but Trunks had decent form, and it was a good workout. Better than he would have gotten at the gym- if he was able to go to the gym anymore. He knew that Trunks wasn’t much of a fighter from the get, but he actually wasn’t too bad, either. Playing around for sport with him was fun, and the more they played around, the more Vegeta was starting to really enjoy this. Trunks was showing a lot of promise. His stance wasn’t bad, neither was his form.

Vegeta taunted, “Who taught you how to throw a punch?”

“Goten,” Trunks smirked, still trying to get a shot in on him.

“Ahh, I see,” Vegeta teased, “You let him beat you up, then?”

“Yeah right!” Trunks declared, “I can kick his ass _some_ of the time!”

“So, then you’re both terrible?” Vegeta cooed.

“Wanna bet?!” Trunks remarked, vamping up his strikes.

Sometime into their session, when they were both starting to get tired, Trunks finally managed to get in one good hit when Vegeta got distracted hearing his phone go off.

“Oh, shit!” Trunks cried, surprised by even himself.

Vegeta wiped his mouth and glanced down at the blood on the knuckles of his hand. He looked up at his son, who looked absolutely mortified, and he smirked, “Took you long enough.”

Trunks’ face flushed and he bowed to his father, surprised and taken aback.

Vegeta walked away, over to his phone, hoping that it was Kakarot, but it was only Bulma. He read the text.

 **Bulma:** I need to talk to you. ASAP. In person.

Vegeta licked the remaining blood off of his bottom lip as he contemplated what the problem could be with his ex-wife. He turned to Trunks and told him, “It’s your lucky day. I have to go talk to your mother. I owe you and Goten dinner.”

Trunks stuttered, “W-wait! What’s going on?”

Vegeta was already grabbing his things, and he told him, “I’ll be back later. Behave.”

“But- I had plans!”

“Did you?” Vegeta replied, heading towards the door, “Enjoying your freedom already? Behaving isn’t limited by your whereabouts, son.”

“Oookaay!” Trunks groaned, rolling his eyes, but he smiled and dashed away, nonetheless. Vegeta chuckled at him as he closed the door behind him.

He headed over to Capsule Corp. quickly. He hoped Bulma had calmed down since they last talked. He wasn’t expecting to be speaking to her again so soon, and although he wasn’t looking forward to having yet another heart to heart, he knew that it needed to be done.

When he arrived, he opted for using the front door this time. No men came to greet him. That had to be a good sign. He walked inside, texting her that he was there. She told him to come to her office. When he got there, she was smoking a cigarette, and pacing the room. She turned to him at his entrance and gave him an impressively indiscernible look.

“That was fast,” she remarked, “Not so busy these days, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Vegeta replied, “But I don’t have to have an excuse to leave, either. I’m hoping you’re not going to waste my time.”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out quickly, butting her cigarette and walking around her desk as she added, “Yesterday was… a lot. This whole week has been a lot.”

Vegeta didn’t respond to that. She had _no_ idea.

“Well, come in, sit down! You stress me out when you just stand there like that. I don’t know how you can always be so calm whenever I’m so tense.”

“Then relax, woman. What’s going on?” He asked her as they both took their seats opposite of each other across the table.

She sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair as she admitted, “The man they caught yesterday… When they should have been keeping an eye out for _you_ …” she paused and then she laughed as she leaned her head into one of her hands. Biting her lip for a moment, she added, “You’ll never guess what that was about…”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head, “I just can’t believe how foolish I was!” She paused again, and lifted her head back up, before she admitted, “I should have listened to you.”

“Robert?” Vegeta asked, intrigued.

“Yes, _Robert_ ,” she nodded, “That fucking asshole.”

“No shit?” Vegeta retorted, with half a mind to chuckle at her, but he kept his amusement to himself.

Bulma rolled her eyes, “Go ahead, laugh it up, I know you want to.” He cracked a smirked. She smirked back. “He said he had connections! Everything seemed legitimate! But he was crooked. I should have _known_ from how nosy and enthusiastic he always was! I should have known that he was just putting on a show to deter me from being suspicious of him.”

“What did he steal?” Vegeta wondered, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms over his chest.

“I don’t even know!” Bulma cried, “Everything, I think. All of my ideas. All my blueprints. At least, I have to assume as much. Anything that Gohan was working on. Anything that he happened to come across. I really don’t know. It wasn’t him that was casing my house, it was someone who worked for him. Or someone that worked for whoever hired _him_ to get him to get hired by _me_. The police don’t have all the information yet, but from what they’ve told me, he’s a con artist. Apparently a very good one. They said I should take it as a compliment. I’m not pleased.”

Vegeta tutted, “It takes a lot to stroke your ego these days.” Bulma puffed her cheeks out at that. Vegeta grunted as a way of moving on, “What’s the damage?”

“Collateral,” Bulma told him, “And compounding, but that’s only if the people he sold my information to are able to use any of it.”

“That sounds like good news?”

“Well science isn’t cheap! And information is nothing if you don’t have the people or resources to do anything with it! Unless they’re planning to sell it to any of my competitors…”

Vegeta nodded, “Have you talked to Gohan about this?”

“I called him, just this morning. The police want to take him in for questioning as well,” she shook her head, “I know he didn’t do anything, though. I mean, nothing outside of what he was supposed to do. Which, technically, means that he willingly shared information with Robert, as per _my_ orders, but I know he’s not an accomplice.”

“How are they going to charge Mr. Sharp with anything, exactly? Will this be a trade secrets lawsuit?”

“Yes!” Bulma growled, “And don’t pacify me! I know how stupid it is! I was _paying_ him to _sell my ideas! _Do you have any idea how infuriating that is?!”

“No,” Vegeta chuckled.

“At least one of us thinks this is funny!”

“What about the men, what are they being charged with? Did they actually take anything?”

“No!” she wailed, “Not a thing! At least, not this time. Nothing… physical… That I know of. The police are combing through our security footage looking for other break-ins, and they’ve confiscated their phones and any other electronics, which were, ironically, Capsule Corp. brand. Hopefully, they’ll be able to find some evidence there.” She groaned to herself again and then added, “I might need you to speak to the police, too…”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, but he smirked at her smugly and said, “I have no problem given them any information they might need.”

“Thanks,” Bulma told him in a snarky manner, “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m not,” Vegeta shook his head, “I just had a bad feeling about him, that’s all.”

She sighed and said, “I should have trusted you on that… I always used to…”

“What changed?”

“Us… Time… _Me_ , maybe. Everything. And you don’t exactly warm up to people as it is. It’s hard to tell the difference between your intuition and your intolerance, you know!”

Vegeta chuckled at that and nodded, “Yes. So, what’s your plan?”

“Find out who hired him and make him pay.”

“How?”

Bulma smirked, “Monetarily, of course! Besides, Mr. Sharp probably didn’t read his paperwork too well in regard to trade secrets. Everything was covered. _Everything_. And whoever he’s working for is going to _wish_ they never got their hands on my information. I have everything dated on my personal computer, which I’ve already sent into the investigation bureau, although I am PISSED about how much time that’s going to cost me. It can’t be helped. And I plan on blowing this up big time. If they’re going to waste my time, I’m going to waste theirs. There won’t be a corporation in the world that won’t hear about this scandal! Any company who was stupid enough to _purchase MY information illegally_ would be _foolish_ to attempt to use it after this goes public. And if they try, I’ll sue them too. Besides, my lawyers are trained to spot any type of backlogging in data and they are well versed on finding clauses in paperwork. I will _not_ be taken down by some swindler who thought he could pull a wall over my eyes.”

“Thought he could steal from The Great Bulma Briefs and get away with it, did he?”

“A big mistake,” Bulma smiled, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed. I have a feeling I’m going to be dealing with this for _years_ to come. All things considered, it’s because of _you_ that I even caught these assholes. I should be thanking you.”

Vegeta snorted.

“You don’t get it! Most corporations don’t even catch these things when they’re happening, and without _proof_ that it ever happened, it goes unchecked! If I hadn’t hired those men to keep an eye out for you then I might not have ever caught him!”

“Then you’re welcome,” Vegeta replied. Bulma huffed and rolled her eyes, but then he told her, “You can rest easy tonight, Bulma. I’m sure Gohan has all the proof you’ll need of _everything_ that man got his hands on.”

Bulma leaned back her chair as she asked, intrigued, “Why do you think that?”

“I worked with him, didn’t I?” he told her, “He takes notes of everything. Everything discussed, when, and with whom. Any information he passed along to Mr. Sharp is probably well documented. Every time I saw Gohan, he’d go through his notes of the _last_ time I was there, and bring up issues that had been rectified, as well as any that were still unfinished. And he’ll be more than willing to go along with the proceedings. I’m sure he’d even testify in court if needed.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Bulma nodded, “Gosh, and all of this right after everything else… Which reminds me… What the hell was all of _that_ about yesterday, Vegeta? Are you losing your mind or something?”

He didn’t respond.

“Something’s gotten into you,” she said accusingly, watching him, “I mean, I _like_ it, but I don’t understand it…”

“Don’t concern yourself with me,” Vegeta said, brushing her comment off. Then he asked, “Did you tell your people to lay off like I told you to?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “After thinking about everything you said, I realized that sending him away might be a _little_ extreme, but I’m still fucking pissed that you let that happen.”

Vegeta replied, “You’re not the only one.”

“Really?” She remarked, clearly still in some disbelief, “You’re not going to argue with me on this?”

“No,” he said, leaning forward, “You were wrong about a lot of things, but I know how you tend to overreact when business gets mixed with your private life. You forget that I know you almost as well as I know myself.”

“That makes one of us, Vegeta,” she laughed, still giving him an odd stare, “I feel like I don’t know you at all, anymore…”

“You do,” he tells her, “You just never knew all of me. Because I never told you.”

Bulma pursed her lips and gave him a softened look. She asked, “Why now?”

“… Personal reasons.”

Bulma gave him another strange look before she smiled and said, “Once upon a time I really wished that things could have worked out between us, you know that right? I was hurt by what you did, but I’ve always had feelings for you…. I get why you did it, though. And why you left. It was never meant to be, between us, was it? I see that now, so much more clearly that I ever have before…”

“Bulma…” Vegeta started.

“No, listen,” she stopped him, “I’m sorry, Vegeta. I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain about the kids and about you working and about… everything. Especially in saying that I didn’t want to see you again and that I didn’t want you around Bra and Trunks anymore. I didn’t mean it. I should never have said that to you. We really do come from different worlds and sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I forget how different you are from me because of how similar we are. I know you work hard to take care of things, maybe not in the way that _I_ would handle things, but you always seem to figure it out. And to tell you the honest truth: I _need_ you around, Vegeta. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she sighed, “Yamcha’s great, but… No one can replace you.”

Vegeta had nothing to say to that. He wasn’t sure he knew what to feel about that, either. He wasn’t expecting to _ever_ hear that _,_ even though he’d come to that conclusion on his own.

Bulma was watching him, still, and she told him, a little more lively and clearly suspicious, “You really are acting different, you know that?”

“I’m not,” he denied, “I’m just more aware of myself.”

“Well,” she laughed, “We could all use a little more self-awareness from time to time.”

Vegeta snapped out of his stupor and retorted sarcastically, “Someone’s got to put you in your place every once in a while, _Princess._ ”

“Spoken like an _arrogant prince_ , Vegeta!” she answered smartly.

Vegeta chuckled, but then asked, itching to leave, “Is this everything you wanted to see me about?”

“Yes,” she said, standing up and walking from around her desk, “For now, anyway.”

Vegeta stood up as well, but he was taken by surprise when she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him close. After a moment, he hugged her back.

She pulled away and looked him over from up close with a lot clearly on her mind. Finally, she said, “If you’re hungry, I can have the cooks make you something.”

“No,” he refused, “I was already planning on going to the store. Unfortunately.”

“Oh! Here! Take this card! I almost forgot,” she pulled out a single credit card out of her pocket. She’d obviously placed it there by itself with intentions of giving it to him.

Vegeta eyed it and answered, “No.”

“Take it!” She insisted.

“Bulma, _no_.”

“Take it, Vegeta!” she frowned, “It’s not a loan or whatever! You don’t owe me anything! Quit being so damn stubborn! I just told you that if it wasn’t for you, I never would have found out about all of this!”

“You keep bringing up the fact that you tried to keep me out of this house like it’s nothing.”

“Bygones! Please?! I was mad, and it doesn’t help that I’m usually mad at you for one thing or another in the first place.”

“Then you should have come to me about it, instead of trying to keep me away.”

“Take the card and it’ll make me feel better.”

“I don’t want your money—” he argued, while he thought, _‘It won’t make_ me _feel better.’_

“Think of it as reward money!” she snapped. Vegeta frowned. She glared, “Don’t be so proud, Vegeta! Can’t you understand that I feel bad enough about everything as it is? I _know_ you didn’t want to work for me! And I get why! I _get_ it!”

Vegeta growled at her.

She growled back, “I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s not as though I’m not aware of all the money I took from you when we got a divorce, you know.”

Vegeta had to process that sentence twice in his brain before he finally realized what she’s said.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I’m aware of what I did. I know it was wrong, but I was so angry at the time. And I feel bad about that, Vegeta. You know, anytime I ever tried to offer you help it wasn’t because I didn’t think that you were capable… I did it because I felt like I owed it to you.”

“No,” Vegeta denied.

“Yes,” She argued, “Now that’s enough! I don’t want to hear anymore, and I don’t want to talk about this ever again. You won your one fight for the year, so take that win, and this card, and get out of here.”

He blinked at her. She was serious, and it was baffling to him.

She winked at him, “I can’t have you going with a perpetually empty fridge all the damn time, Vegeta. Take it. Buy whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to…” she assured him, and she kissed his cheek and shoved him towards the door, “Now, go on! I know you’ve seen enough of me!”

He turned away, confused, but then turned back and glared at her. Testing the waters between them, he stated, “I’m coming back for Bra when I damn well feel like it.”

“Whatever,” she waved him off, “Just remember that she starts school here in a few weeks,” Bulma smiled.

Vegeta nodded, looked her over, smirked, and then walked away. He didn’t plan on using the card, but the gesture was enough.

Vegeta really did have to go to the grocery store. He went to the same one where he first met Kakarot, and he secretly hoped he would see him there again. Kakarot wasn’t around, though. He wasn’t in the produce section, or the meat department. He wasn’t by the cashiers or way in the back with the ice cream and milk.

Vegeta tried not to let it bother him that he still hadn’t heard from the other man, but he’d been doing a lot of deep thinking about him, and about himself, regardless.

He felt as though he just kept having epiphany after epiphany. Even as he got home and he was putting his groceries away, secretly wishing that Kakarot was here to help him in his annoying way, or distracting him the way he likes to do, Vegeta continued to think about him and about himself. The day flew by.

Trunks came home at a decent hour for once, and for once he was alone. Vegeta didn’t know if he was nervous to bring Goten back over because Vegeta would be suspicious now of what they were doing behind closed doors or if Trunks was truly trying to be more respectful. Or maybe Gohan wasn’t willing to let Goten out of his sight just yet.

Is Goten still staying at Gohan’s house or…?

Vegeta wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

In spite of the fact that his relationship with his son has vastly improved, small things were still difficult to change, and while they were sharing more and more, and becoming less and less irritated with one another, the idea of opening up was still not a very appealing one to Vegeta.

Another couple of days passed without much talk between them, and while Trunks was home for more of it than Vegeta was used to, that didn’t bother him. It didn’t seem to bother his son, either. Trunks sat on the couch playing video games, while Vegeta sat on one of the recliners going through his finances for the millionth time.

Vegeta had been contemplating his plans for his own future with new questions for once. He didn’t want to stay in the same business he’d been in anymore, and it was apparent that no one else did either. He was looking for something different, but he wasn’t really sure where to start. Still, he was going to try to figure something else out.

He’d already counted and secured exactly how much money he had when he was planning on leaving, and he knew that he had enough to go on for a least a couple more months in this apartment, regardless of the money he wasted on a plane ticket he never used, which he could always save for later, and the hotel room that he never went to, which he wasn’t mad about in the least. Still, nothing was coming to him on the job front, no matter where _else_ his frantic mind decided to take him.

He clicked his tongue as he tried to concentrate, but no clear answers were coming to him. All he knew was that he had a little time to figure it out, and he was keen on simply being grateful for that much.

Trunks turned to him at the noise he’d made, and he grinned, “You okay over there?”

“Fantastic,” Vegeta growled sarcastically.

Trunks rolled his eyes, and said, “Ookaay,” before focusing back on the TV.

Vegeta smirked. Some things never change, and he enjoyed having the reminder.

When there came a knock on the front door a few minutes later, Trunks turned to his father in question. Vegeta looked at him just as confused.

“You expecting someone?” Trunks asked.

“No,” Vegeta admitted, knitting his brows together. Another moment in silence passed. The door was promptly knocked on again. Vegeta motioned, “Well, don’t just sit there staring at me! Go answer it!”

Trunks huffed but paused his game and stood up to do just that. Vegeta listened as Trunks opened the door. He heard his gasp and the joy in his voice as he said, “Hey, guys! Come on in! Uhh, it’s good to see you, Goku! Goten, I didn’t know you were coming over! You could have called me!”

Vegeta’s heart jumped out of his chest. He wanted to run, either run to Goku or run away he wasn’t sure, but he found that he was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think.

“Hey, Trunks!” He heard Kakarot’s voice.

It sent shivers through his spine, but other than slight trembling, Vegeta sat perfectly still. He just didn’t know what to do with himself as he heard footsteps coming forward and a strange but casual conversation ensued from the hallway.

Goten was saying, “Dad just got back in town last night.”

Trunks nervously replied, “Oh, nice.”

Goku asked, “Is Vegeta home?” just as they exited the hallway and came into the living room. Goku took a look around the room, scanning the home. His gaze went from the dining room, to the hall leading to the bedrooms, and then finally, to the living room. He saw Vegeta at last, who was still sitting stiffly in his recliner, feet pulled up, computer still on his lap. He smiled as Vegeta’s eyes were drawing up his tall figure, focusing only on him.

“Kakarot,” Vegeta said in greeting, still not moving, surprised that he could even speak. Then he forced his focus to shift to Goten and he nodded at him, speaking to him just as blankly, “Goten.”

“Hey!” Goten nodded back. He looked just as nervous as Trunks, who stood there beside him, trying his best to go undetected by the six-foot-something machine of a man that had suddenly appeared in their home unannounced.

“Vegeta…” Goku spoke again, this time directly to him, “Can I talk to you? Alone.”


	22. 22

22

“Vegeta…” Goku spoke again, this time directly to him, “Can I talk to you? Alone.”

Vegeta stared at him unbreathing, just taking him in and questioning why the hell he is here all of the sudden. He was determined to find out everything he could, though and so, finally registering that he needed to respond, he turned his computer off and set it aside.

He wondered if his legs would still work as he swung them down to stand up. They did. He wondered if his heart was going to stop pounding enough for him to even _have_ a conversation with Kakarot. Even as he walked forward, he wondered if this feeling in his chest was ever going to subside again.

He glanced at their boys and noticed that they seemed to be having a silent conversation of their own, both worried, no doubt, about what their fathers were going to say to one another about everything that happened and everything that’s _been_ happening right under their noses. Vegeta wondered if Kakarot knew about them, yet. He wondered what Kakarot was going to say to him about what happened with Goten.

He wondered about a hell of a lot more than that, but as he closed the distance, all he said was, “Yes. I think we need to talk.”

Goku nodded and asked, “We can talk in your room, if that’s better…?”

“Fine,” Vegeta replied shortly, his chest feeling incredibly tight. He didn’t know what he should be feeling right now, exactly, pleased that he’s finally here, or indignant at his audacity, but he was _not_ going to blush at the implication of them talking in his room and he was _not_ going to just give in to him, either. Or worse, fucking _cry_ if this doesn’t go well. Especially not in front of him. He had no clue what was about to happen between them, and his own emotions weren’t helping him think straight.

Goku stared at Vegeta, his eyes searching his face for a long moment, before he turned to Trunks and Goten and asked, “Did you guys want to get out of here for a little while? You could go get something to eat?”

Trunks’ looked at him, then to Vegeta, then back to Goku, but he refused to answer.

Goku smiled down at the boys, “We have a lot to discuss, so we might be a while.”

“I’m hungry,” Goten turned to Trunks, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Uh, y-yeah! Let’s go!” Trunks agreed, “I just gotta put some shoes on. Be right back.”

Goku turned to Vegeta again and smiled. Vegeta wasn’t sure what type of look he was giving him in return, but he was certainly looking at him. He could hardly look away.

Goku offered, gesturing to Vegeta’s room, “I’ll follow you.”

Vegeta stared at him some more before turning away and heading down the hallway. He glanced at Trunks as the young man was exiting his room, and Trunks looked downright terrified as he ran past both his father and Goku on his way back to Goten.

Vegeta barked after them, “Don’t be gone too long!”

He heard Trunks saying, “Okay! No problem! Let’s go, Goten!”

“Right,” Goten agreed, and they hurried out the door.

When Vegeta opened his bedroom door to let Kakarot follow him inside, he felt a prickly sensation run through his body, knowing he was so close to him. He heard the front door clicking to a close. He now had him alone. He was so close to never seeing him again and now he’s here. And they’re alone.

He spun around to face Kakarot quickly and said, his emotions all in a wreck, “ _You_ could have _called me_! Then I would have been at least a _little_ more prepared to discuss everything with you and _you_ _told me_ you were going to call me.”

“I know,” Goku nodded, still pressing him inside of his bedroom, his eyes looking him over. His mouth parted slightly.

He looked too good to be real.

“I’m tired of this, Kakarot!” Vegeta seethed, “You keep coming and going in and out of my life!”

“I’m tired of it, too,” the man agreed.

Vegeta still argued, “Did you finally think of something to say to me after all this time?!”

Goku shut the door behind them. “Yes, Vegeta—”

Vegeta was dangerously close to him. Dangerously close to throwing his arms around his neck and telling him that he missed him. But he was still mad at him and he didn’t know what was going to become of them. He backed away and yelled, “Why the hell are we in my bedroom of all places?! We didn’t have to discuss this in here! I can’t believe you even suggested that! As though I’m just going to let this whole thing go!”

“I just want to talk.”

“Well, they left, didn’t they?! So start talking!” Vegeta snapped. _‘Fuck,’_ he thought to himself. All the thinking he’s been doing, and he still reacts the exact same way he always does. He felt like he was in way over his head.

Goku nodded to him again with distress plainly on his face as he said, “I know they’re gone but I wanted to talk about this in here so I could have you alone in case they come back before we’re finished talking.”

“You have some nerve!” Vegeta growled and his face flushed.

Kakarot was looking at him deeply, but he took a second to look away, licking his lips as he glanced around his room for a moment before his eyes fell back onto Vegeta’s. He spoke calmly, “I told you I would call, and I’m sorry that I didn’t call you when I got back last night. I—”

“I don’t care about excuses, Kakarot,” Vegeta cut him off, too nervous to keep quiet and just let him talk.

“I wanted to see you and talk about this in person,” Goku told him, “I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. Or even _start_ it with a phone call. Out of respect. For you.”

“You’re _still_ trying to pacify me with bullshit—”

“It’s not bullshit,” Goku frowned.

“Just tell me what you came here to say! I’d like to get this over with,” Vegeta cried, his emotions finally starting to announce themselves individually, instead of them all being lumped up into one entangled mess. It didn’t feel any better or provide any more clarity.

“I came here to say a lot of things, Vegeta!” Goku bellowed back. The sound of his raised voice stunned Vegeta in a way he wasn’t expecting. “This is _not_ going to be some short, simple, five-minute chat, okay?!”

“Fine!” Vegeta snapped back, bucking up to him. He was amazed by him, but still angry. Still embarrassed. Still upset and confused. Still incredibly attracted to him. Still very much in love with him.

Goku looked around his room again briefly before his eyes raised back to Vegeta’s face. He seemed much calmer than a moment ago, and his eyes softened before he stated, distractedly, “… Your lip is busted.”

“I-” Vegeta raised his hand to his mouth, then pulled it away, and shouted, “We’re not talking about me right now!”

“Okay…” He searched Vegeta’s face once more, his brow’s furrowing in concentration.

Unable to stand the hesitation any longer, or ignore the most important, and also _newest_ part of whatever this discussion was going to entail, Vegeta started, “If you won’t talk, then I will! What happened to Goten was—”

“No,” Goku stops him, lifting up a hand to quiet him. Vegeta noticed his fingers twitch and retract as he lowered his arm. He spoke again, “No. Let me go first, Vegeta…”

Vegeta stiffened at that but shut his mouth in anticipation.

Goku told him, “I left without saying anything to you after we talked the last time. I shouldn’t have done that. After you were so honest with me about everything… I should have stayed and talked to you right then and there. I should have just taken you out to dinner like I wanted to, instead of running away. Instead allowing _you_ to walk away. I should have called you _before_ I left, but I… I didn’t. I know that was wrong of me. And I’m sorry if I caught you off guard by showing up like this, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t know I was going to be gone for so long.”

“Hn,” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, suspicious and angry and defensive as usual. He asked, “You sure about that, Kakarot?”

Goku nodded at him and said, “I am telling you the truth and _I want to tell you everything,_ but I can’t if you keep interrupting me…”

Vegeta fumed, “Then just do it! And don’t even _think_ about lying to me. Gohan talked to me about you! He told me he figured out that there had been something going on between us…”

“Yeah…” Goku said, his whole face dropping at something in Vegeta’s retort, but Vegeta wasn’t sure what.

Vegeta _hated_ that look on him. He preferred the usual bright-eyed stare he was more used to getting from him. And he hated that he hated seeing Gohan’s words come to fruition: That Kakarot really could be melancholy. He stirred at his own thoughts and added, “Gohan told me quite an interesting story about you and your lifestyle. And his upbringing.”

“Good,” Goku nodded, still a bit solemn.

“What the hell does _that_ mean?!” Vegeta wondered, eyes widening, “Are you not surprised by any of that?”

“No, I’m not.”

Vegeta glared.

“I already talked to Gohan, Vegeta, and I’m glad that he talked to you. I’m glad he figured it out,” Goku replied heatedly, “And I’m glad he told you a little bit about my past. And his. And I’m glad that he felt like he _could_ talk to you. It’s good that you have something to compare my side of the story to because I _know_ that you wouldn’t have been satisfied with hearing it unless you did.”

“Are you mocking me?!”

“I’m not!” Goku snapped, “I just get where you’re coming from!”

“Please!”

“Would you just listen?! I have a lot to say, Vegeta!”

“Fine!” Vegeta spat back.

Goku nodded, calming himself down again. He took a deep breath and exhaled before he said, “I told you I’m a Protector. I get hired to protect people from danger. To prevent bad things from happening. Sometimes nothing happens, sometimes it does. But this last time was bad. It got _really_ bad,” he turned his face away from him as he said, “I can’t stand the things that I see when I’m out there. On the job. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“What are you even talking about?”

“My job…” he stated plainly, turning to face him again, “It’s rough.”

Vegeta shook his head, “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Goku admitted, “No, I’m not telling you this to impress you, I’m telling you because… I guess I thought that if I told you more about what I do in the first place, then you might not want to get into a relationship with me.”

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, doubtfully and asked, “And why is that?”

Goku frowned, “It’s messed up… how much death I see; all the horrible things that people do in this world. Do you really expect me to tell you everything about what I’ve seen? What they _do_? Every disgusting crime I come across- every terrible evil I have to face- did you expect me to just share it all with you?” He shook his head, “What would that accomplish?”

Vegeta turned away from him at that and walked over to his bed, just to put some distance between them. He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t even know what to think about it. Goku just used his own line against him. He ran a hand through his hair but turned back around to face him, still listening. Willing to listen.

“I know you didn’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. And from what you’ve told me about your past, I guess I thought you would understand where I’m coming from…”

“What the fuck is your point?” Vegeta replied bitingly.

“My point is that… If we were in a relationship, and you knew how bad it could get, why would you want to stick around for me? Why would you ever want to wait for me? When you wouldn’t even know if I was going to come back at all…”

“You’re assuming a lot right now.”

“I know, but now I guess I’m wondering if you still love me like you said you did. If you’ll _still_ love me after I tell you everything.” He paused, when Vegeta didn’t answer, Goku continued, “I’ve been working on and off ever since we met. I guess you could say I’m hired per gig. I’m either looking for a bad guy, or I’m protecting people from possible assassinations. Sometimes I’m like a secret service agent, sometimes I’m like a bounty hunter. It depends on the job. Some of the jobs were out of town, some of them were in town. Those times I wouldn’t call for weeks, that’s what I was doing. That time I saw you at that bar, I was looking for someone else…”

Vegeta tensed at that and considered his words strongly, but he still didn’t understand why Kakarot was saying any of this.

“The job has taken a toll on me after all these years. I’m always on guard. I’m always thinking about the worst-case scenario… That time I ran over here when you didn’t answer my call, you know- our first night together- I thought something might have happened to you.”

“I don’t need your protection!” Vegeta snapped.

“I never said you did, but…”

“But _what_?!”

“But there was something about you, Vegeta… I didn’t know how to put my finger on it,” he smiled, and his voice became deeper as he said, “From the first moment I met you, I could tell that you were so strong, and so tough, but there was something… vulnerable in you…”

“Kakarot…” Vegeta warned, clenching his fists. Questioning his theory.

“You brought out the protectiveness in _me_ ,” Goku added, “As well as my curiosity.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes.

“Protecting people is in my nature. It always has been. Like a calling. With my training, it’s turned into something else. I try not to be paranoid, but sometimes I can’t help it. I check doors and corners constantly. I take in small details about the people around me, what they’re wearing and what their features are. I lock the front door of any house I’m in and keep a mental note of all the exits. I sit with my back to the wall in restaurants so I can see the front door. You do it, too. I’ve noticed. You’re constantly on guard…”

“So what?” Vegeta growled. Was he really paying that close of attention to him this whole time?

“I’m not guarded like _you_ , Vegeta, but I do tend to only keep a small circle of people around me and I don’t usually bother with others… Most of the time. When I met you, your passion in everything that you said and did stood out to me. The way you instantly tried to defend yourself against me in the parking lot… The way you were so proud and so… Straight to the point. The way you were so serious about not taking the groceries,” he let out a small, gentle laugh, “And the money I loaned you… When fate brought us together once more; when I found out that you were Trunks’ father, and that you were a fighter, I knew that I wanted to get to know you better. I knew that you and I had to have at least _some_ things in common. And you were so intense that I… I was drawn to you.”

“So you were drawn to me because of how badly I was trying to keep you away? How romantic,” Vegeta spat.

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“Really?”

“When I normally meet new people, they’re usually clingy or annoying, and I don’t need someone like that around. I don’t want someone overbearing in my life. I _liked_ the fact that I knew you were busy with your own things, the same as me. I had _planned_ on getting to know you slowly…”

“Then what was all that ‘what do you do for a living’ bullshit?”

“Casual conversation…?”

They were getting off topic, so Vegeta questioned, “You expect me to believe any of this? I still don’t get your point.”

“I’m just trying to explain everything, Vegeta.”

He huffed.

“You said yourself that you were trying to keep me away from you. You _said_ you were a bad guy. I looked into you well before you told me about your record with the cops. I thought that if you were trying _so hard_ to be so secretive, maybe you really were hiding something. But you were only hiding yourself.”

“How dare you?!” Vegeta replied. He hadn’t _actually_ expected him to look into his record. Or to be _able_ to.

“Yeah, I thought you might be mad about that. But there was nothing to find, which was good. For me, I mean. For us, really… because I was really into you.”

Vegeta blushed at that, not having expected it. His mind raced to put the pieces of Kakarot’s story together into something coherent, but he was still busy deflecting.

“Keeping each other at a distance really didn’t work out, though, did it?” Goku added smartly, “Every time I saw you there was some new fight between us regarding your past or mine. Some new reason for us to butt heads over circumstances that were out of our control. Even though I knew you weren’t really interested in prying into my life, and I _normally_ wouldn’t have bothered asking about yours… I couldn’t help it. You just seemed so troubled and so… interesting.”

“I told you I don’t need your help with my problems!”

“Maybe not. But I was drawn to you, either way.”

“So what?” Vegeta remarked stubbornly.

He sighed, “I was obviously attracted to you. From the very start. Not just physically, though. It was more than that. I thought about you a lot. I don’t usually dwell on things or people, but every time I saw you, I wanted to see you again.”

Vegeta’s heart swelled in his chest and he turned his head away, trying to deny that he felt the same way, even to himself.

Goku’s voice was impossibly soft, now, quiet, and gentle, as he told him, “I spent a lot of time trying to figure out the possibilities between us… But man are you hard to read, and I’d never been in a relationship with a man before.”

“I knew it.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re the first man I’ve slept with,” Goku explained, “You’re not, but you’re the first person, man or woman, that I’ve been interested in dating seriously. I had to make sure there weren’t going to be any underlying issues between us.”

“Tch,” Vegeta sneered, “What good _that_ did.”

“Well, neither of us were very forthcoming.”

“I gave you my reasons!”

“I understand where you’re coming from…”

Vegeta sneered, “Yet here you were second-guessing that intuition you’re so proud of! What happened to all of that _‘I can just tell’_ bullshit?”

“I can, otherwise I never would have bothered with you in the first place. But you _are_ a pretty good bluffer. I knew it wouldn’t hurt to double check.”

Vegeta turned away from him at that and faced his bed. He just couldn’t look at him anymore.

Goku took a step closer, “I wish you wouldn’t turn away from me like that. I’m not trying to insult you, Vegeta. I just thought you were special. You are obviously the kind of person who thinks very deeply and feels very strongly. You were a challenge, and I knew that you’d be worth the effort.”

“I’m not some fucking conquest, Kakarot!” Vegeta barks.

“You’re right. And I definitely don’t think of you that way, so don’t take it like that, either.”

“Feh!”

“Honestly! Gosh… I’m having a hard time saying what I mean. But I… I love how snarky you are. How passionate you are. I fed off of that. How could I _not_ fall for you?”

Vegeta shivered at the very thought of him _enjoying_ his blatant attitude. He struggled to get his body’s physical reaction under control as he tried to tell himself that he wasn’t making any sense. He _hated_ Kakarot’s casual demeanor- but he fed off of it all the same. Was everything between them some type of hypnotic dance? Was all of their attraction to one another just on the surface? Or could they actually be compatible deep down?

Goku told him, “The more I got to know you the more I wanted to get to know you, and the more I felt that I could share with you… and I wanted to, but when you told me everything… I just froze.”

Brought back to the present, Vegeta scoffed, “I’m aware.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to open up to me like that. But I’m glad that you did.”

“ _Sure_ ,” Vegeta drawled, still feeling insecure. He still couldn’t tell where Kakarot was going with this.

Goku bit the inside of his cheek before he said, “Everything you said made me take a deeper look into myself, and I wasn’t ready for some of the things I realized.”

Vegeta scoffed again.

Goku frowned, “I should have just told you everything right then, but I just wasn’t ready. I could have at least explained about my job a little better, but from how you had reacted to the situation with Bulma and Bra… I didn’t want you to be thinking about it the next time I left.”

“What does _that_ situation have to do with anything?!” Vegeta growled vehemently, “You keep bringing up your job like it _means_ something! Why the fuck would I care what you do for a living?”

“That’s true, Vegeta, why would you, I guess, if you didn’t really care about me?” Goku hummed.

Vegeta growled in warning that he better explain himself. Growled at himself that he really _did care_. Growled at himself that he’d never questioned whether or not the other man was going to come back, only if he was going to come back to _him_. Growled for not even considering the danger behind the man’s position in the first place. No _wonder_ Gohan had said the boys were just happy to have Vegeta around.

Goku told him, “I know you’re a tough guy. I know you probably never question your own abilities, or _mine_ , maybe… And you definitely acted like you didn’t care when I told you about it before. Or maybe you just didn’t understand. Or maybe you wouldn’t have cared, either way. Or at all,” Goku shrugged, “But in my experience, you might have started to…”

“Are you fishing for compliments? Or are you trying to call me a fucking psychopath? Because from the way I see it, you’re the one who chose to take the damn job in the first place, so who’s got problems between us, really?”

Goku laughed.

Vegeta was thrown off by it, but still argued, “All I hear are excuses as to why you couldn’t tell me what you were really doing for weeks at a time, and I’m not buying any of it.”

“I’m not trying to give you excuses or call you insensitive,” Goku answered. It was his turn to huff before he said, “Look, I didn’t realize how much worse I was going to make things between us by _not_ telling you about this first until after I had already left this last time… I got the call about my new assignment the day after our fight. I was on my flight that evening. I didn’t really have time to let everything you said truly sink in. But I’ve been thinking about it nonstop now.”

“And?”

“And I still love you. I meant it when I said that Vegeta.”

Vegeta wanted to break down at that, but he refused. He was grateful he still wasn’t facing him, but he just… didn’t fully understand.

Goku continued, his voice still serene from behind him, “When I got back, after I saw that I missed so many calls from you and after I read all of Gohan’s texts telling me about what happened to Goten… I thought for sure you’d be pissed at me then if you weren’t already.”

Vegeta snapped, “Why the hell would _I_ be mad at _you_ about _that_?” More precisely, Vegeta wondered, _‘And why the hell aren’t_ you _mad at_ me _?’_

“Because _you_ handled a situation that _I_ should have been there for,” Goku admitted quietly, “I made Gohan take of his little brother like _he’s_ the father. And he _is_ a father, but not Goten’s…”

Vegeta had never thought about it that way before. Even when Gohan had said it, it didn’t click to him like _that_.

“Vegeta…” Goku’s soft voice stirred, “I _know_ that’s why you called me that night and not for any other reason. I know you well enough to know that you would have waited forever for my phone call. For your pride’s sake, not because you were actually waiting for me, but because you were not going to be the one to call me first. And I want you to know that it wasn’t in my intention to keep you waiting. Or to keep you guessing.”

“And yet that’s exactly what you did.”

“Yeah… I know. You must have thought that I wasn’t answering because of _you_ but that’s not it at all. You have to understand that I didn’t know that you’d called at all. No one could reach me. Coming back to _that_ — I remembered why I wanted to quit that damn job in the first place. I- I keep taking chances thinking that I’m going to continue to get lucky, but if I’m not careful, one day my luck might just run out. When you told me about how you lost your fight at the fight club, I know I just brushed it off, but that was kind of hard to believe… And this last time on the job made me realize that I’m not invincible.”

Vegeta growled.

“I want you to know that that was the last time I’m ever going away like that again. I put in my resignation.”

“Great! Good for you!” Vegeta smarted off, “I’m glad my _personal record being shattered_ helped _you_ gain some clarity.”

“Vegeta…”

That night Vegeta lost that fight was still bothering him, and Gohan’s lament was heavy on Vegeta’s mind as well. His emotions weighed down on his chest.

Goku sighed and said, “I get that you’re upset, but do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Still not facing him, his fists still clenched at his sides, and still deep in denial and confusion, Vegeta rebutted, “No, I don’t. And I’m not _just_ upset with you- I’m every single fucking emotion under the SUN towards you!”

“I feel the same way, Vegeta! And I’m not used to it, either!” Goku cried.

“Is that supposed to make this any better?! That explains _nothing_!” Vegeta still couldn’t face him.

“What do you want me to say, Vegeta?!” Goku suddenly bursts out, his voice no longer calm nor quiet, “Do you want to talk about how completely _wrong_ you were about nearly _every_ assumption you made about me?! Or do you want to talk about how I’ve fallen so hopelessly in love with you that I can’t even think straight anymore?! Or do you want to talk about how lonely I was before I met you?! I’m _sure_ you probably want to talk about what Gohan told you about me never being around! And about Goten! And how horrible I feel about the fact that I wasn’t here for him! I’m not perfect, Vegeta! I’ve made a ton of mistakes in my life! _Too many to count!_ And I hate that I even have to remember some of them!”

Something inside of Vegeta latched onto those words. _They sounded all too familiar. All of this suddenly sounds too fucking familiar._

Goku was still speaking intensely, “Do you have any idea just how absent I’ve been from my son’s lives? Did Gohan tell you just how close I cut it with being there by Chi Chi’s side when she died? Did he tell you that I left for _seven years_ \- the first seven years of Goten’s life- just to go train out of the country and enter a martial arts tournament? When I came back, that’s when I found out about Chi Chi’s illness, and I felt so guilty for everything that I’d done and all the time I spent away, but nothing was ever going to make up for it. I still left again, even after that, _knowing_ that she was sick and that my sons needed me. Gohan was _pissed_. When she died, I told myself that I never wanted to go through that again! But I did it, anyways! I don’t even know if Goten will ever forgive me! You want to talk about problems with your kids?! _You_ at least spend _time_ with yours!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vegeta answered, slightly trembling at everything that he heard.

“Yes, I do!” Goku declared, “I’ve _seen it,_ Vegeta! You’ve gone out of your way to make sure that your kids know that you’re around if you need them! You say that you’re a bad dad, but you stuck around after your divorce with Bulma, _for them_. In spite of your past and how _bad_ you say that you are, you’ve at least _tried_ to have a relationship with them! But I’ve been doing just the opposite with my sons for entire lives! And you want the truth? _I’ve been doing it on purpose!_ ”

Vegeta’s breath hitched at that, and he turned his head to look away, but he listened acutely.

“I wanted to be better, the older I got- the wiser- the more sentimental- and I _tried_ to prioritize things. I _wanted_ to do what was right for them. Every time I was around, I tried to be the best that I could possibly be but being _nice_ isn’t enough. Providing for them isn’t enough…”

 _‘It isn’t, is it…?’_ Vegeta couldn’t help but think, still reflective upon himself even as he was being impossibly receptive of Goku’s speech regardless of how hard he was trying to fight the logic in his words. Goku’s voice was cracking, full of emotion and anguish Vegeta wasn’t sure was possible in such a generally happy man, and while he wanted to turn back around to him, he just couldn’t face him.

“I never meant for this job to last for so long. When they first asked me to join, I was hesitant, but I couldn’t resist the thrill of it. I thought I’d join the crew for a little while, do a few gigs to help out when they were short-handed, and then wash my hands of it. But one led to another, and then another, and they liked me being on board with them, and we were good, and I felt this _rush_ … But I can’t do it anymore.”

“Why not?” Vegeta asked quietly.

“Because I really thought I wasn’t going to make it back this time…”

Vegeta tilted his chin as he thought about the gravity in those words.

“I’m trusting you not to tell Gohan or Goten about this, okay? But,” Goku’s voice wavered again, “I just kept thinking about how stupid it would be to not even be able to say goodbye to any of you.”

“To your sons,” Vegeta corrected pointedly, still desperate to disassociate himself.

“To them. And to you,” Goku insisted.

Vegeta spun around at that, “Don’t lump me in with your family like that, Kakarot!”

Goku snapped, “Don’t assume you know how I feel, Vegeta! You can tell me that you’re in love with me, but I can’t say the same thing without _my_ honor getting attacked? Damn it, Vegeta! What happened to all that sincerity you showed me a month ago?!”

Yelling, Vegeta retorted, “Where’s _yours_ , Kakarot?! Don’t turn this around on me!”

Coming forward, he argued, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to tell you the truth?!”

“No one’s stopping you!” Vegeta shouted, waiting for him to continue, waiting for the rest of his explanation, and still trying to hold himself at bay.

Goku shook his head and tilted it to the side, before standing up straight again, clearly debating against speaking his mind. He cursed, “I _know_ that… but I didn’t want to tell you any of this because I didn’t want you to hate me when you heard it. I didn’t want you to think less of me… But you deserve to hear this from me… I am not used to talking about myself like this and I don’t talk about serious things when I do.”

Vegeta sneered, “You sure did ask _me_ a whole lot of questions when we first met.”

“Yeah,” Goku half smiled, in spite of everything, “I was so infatuated with you. I still am. Even after everything you shared with me. All those things you said that you thought were so horrible. They weren’t. And now I have to tell you my side, whether I want to or not… because you’ve helped me realize that I can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing, anymore…” he took a shaky breath and declared, “For all the good that I’ve done, I haven’t been good to those closest to me, and nothing I could ever do is going to make up for that. I have let important people in my life drift further and further away from me, while I was busy either helping someone I didn’t know, or simply trying to hit a new personal plateau.

“You want to talk about being selfish? _You’re_ not selfish- I am. Everything you said to me that day just proved to me that _I’m_ an asshole. Not just in this relationship, but in all of my relationships. Gohan’s been trying to tell me for _years_ that I need to be more available, but I just couldn’t do it. Honestly, _I didn’t want to_. I was afraid of something happening to me, _not because I cared about my own life_ , but because I didn’t want to affect my son’s lives, and I thought that if something _did_ happen to me, maybe it would hurt less when I’m gone if I was never around to begin with.”

Vegeta jerked his face away from him, his words echoing through his mind. Why did that resonate so deeply within him?

“I have problems with getting close to people, too. I can make friends just fine, but real, lasting, meaningful relationships? Not so much. Although I do have a few… and I am very grateful for that.”

Vegeta sneered.

Goku didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him, though, as he was saying, “I guess it’s because of my own childhood. I never knew my parents, either. My grandfather raised me when I was just a boy and he died when I was very young. I had a brother, too, but I didn’t know him very well growing up. He was much older than me, and he ran away as soon as he was able to. I looked for him when I got old enough, but when I found him, he didn’t care to get to know me. He didn’t want anything to do with me.

“But it didn’t matter to me. I realized that I didn’t care about him, either. All I ever cared about was myself. My own personal goals. Like fighting. Ever since I was a little boy, it was all I ever focused on. I’ve been a fighter all of my life. I have a few good friends I’ve known since I was a kid- they’re the ones that I work with, actually, but that’s it. I don’t really talk to anyone else. At least, not long enough to build a solid relationship with them.

“I got married way too young. I was immature and too caught up in the moment to think twice about what I was getting myself into. I was practically coerced into marrying her by her dad and our friends, and I wound up having a kid I didn’t know how to raise before I was even a man myself. I used any excuse I could to get away because I didn’t know what I was doing, and I wasn’t happy with my decision to _be_ married.

“When Chi Chi got pregnant again, I freaked out. I never thought I’d be able to handle it. I took whatever tournament or challenge came my way and left every chance I got because I didn’t know how else to provide for them, and I definitely didn’t know how else to _be_.

“I never really worked a day in my life, Vegeta, not until this Protector job came around, and it was only offered to me because I knew the right people. It was just another way to challenge myself. Or prove something to myself. And it was the best way I could make some money to help pay for the kids and their schooling and the bills. Tournament money is nice, but it doesn’t last long when you’re the only one working trying to raise a family. Besides, I’m not great with money. Sure, I have some, but I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know it’s worth, I guess.

“The only other _real_ _job_ I’ve ever done is some farming on the land we used to own that we inherited from Chi Chi’s father. I like the outdoors and all, but that was so time consuming and I always just wanted to do my own thing. I sold it all, took the money, and brought Goten out here to the city when I realized that I wasn’t built to fill all the roles in the house that Chi Chi used to take care of. That’s when I had that gym made. It seemed like a good idea- a steady income if I could get it up and running. Something to keep me in town and at home more. And I was planning on quitting the Protector job anyway. I should have quit right after I took the job from Bulma, but I didn’t. I was still running away from my responsibilities, I guess…” he paused, “Do you get what I’m saying, Vegeta? I feel like… if anyone _could_ understand me… It’s you.”

And he did. Everything he was saying rang true to Vegeta all too well.

Goku asked, a slight change in his voice, a tinge of exhaustion along with a hint of hope, “You got everything all wrong about me and when you shared _your_ past, I was shocked by just how much I had been avoiding thinking about mine. That’s why I hesitated, Vegeta. It had nothing to do with you,” Goku sighed, “To be honest,” he added, his voice nearly raw with emotion, “I didn’t realize how much you’d assumed about me until you told me your side of things. And I didn’t realize how much we had in common until then, either. But what I’ve told you is only the tip of the iceberg. And the situation with Goten- Vegeta, how can I thank you enough?”

Vegeta remarked slowly, letting everything he was saying sink in, “Thank me for what, Kakarot?”

“For being there. For caring enough about him to be there. And for calling Gohan. Even if you only really did it all for Trunks.”

Vegeta argued in a shattered voice, “How can that be your perspective on things?”

“How can it _not_?” Goku countered, “What did you think I was going to say to you? Did you think I was going to be mad? I am… upset… But not at you. Not at Trunks. Not at Goten. It was an accident… IT could have been worse. I’ve seen worse.”

Vegeta’s eyes softened and blurred. He blinked. He was _not_ going to cry.

Goku took a few steps forward slowly, approaching him tentatively. He licked his lips and said, “I just… I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay? I want to talk about us…”

“What about us?” Vegeta whispered.

“You told me to tell you everything I thought you didn’t want to hear…”

“I did,” Vegeta nodded.

“And what do you think?” Goku asked him,

Vegeta looked up at him and asked, half smirking, half in shock, “Is that the best you could come up with?”

Goku half-smiled back, “Did you want to hear something else?”

Vegeta shut his eyes. He couldn’t answer. He’s heard enough.

“We can take it from here, yeah?”

Vegeta didn’t answer.

“Where do we go from here?” Goku wondered honestly.

Vegeta looked up at him again, impossibly moved.

Goku asked him, in a breathy voice, “…Do you still want to be with me?”

Vegeta was still silent, still looking him over. Still too moved to speak.

Goku reached out, and with a tentative touch, he lifted his face by his chin, and tilted it upwards. Vegeta let him. Goku examined him before he said, his thumb pressing gently against Vegeta’s mouth, “Your lip… It’s a little swollen… I thought you said you weren’t going to fight in the fight club anymore?”

“I didn’t,” he deflected calmly, lifting his hand to touch Goku’s forearm, his heart racing at his touch. He admitted, “Trunks and I were sparring…”

“Really?” Goku asked, his voice a higher pitch, but softer than Vegeta could remember hearing him before, “I didn’t know you two did that…”

“Neither did I…”

“Vegeta,” Goku voice quivered, his thumb leaving Vegeta’s lip, while his hand still caressed his chin. He told him, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for so long, now. Longer than before our last fight. Longer than before our _first_ fight. You have no idea how much I’ve learned from you over this past year. But… there’s something I’m still not sure about…”

Vegeta used the grip he had on his arm to pull his hand from his face slowly as he questioned him quietly, “What is it?”

“… About where we stand together…” he admitted, and then smiled down at him queerly. He said, “I wasn’t done explaining everything, but I can’t stop looking at you and I just… I want to get closer, but when I look into your eyes, I get this feeling like I’m never going to see you again.” He looked around the room again, this time searching for something specifically. His eyes went down to Vegeta’s spilled but packed suitcases still sitting on the floor.

Vegeta followed his gaze, mortified when he realized what he was looking at.

Goku tilted his chin towards the luggage and asked, “What is that?” his eyes darting back to Vegeta, “I noticed it when I first came in,” He paused, waiting for a response. Vegeta refused to reply. Goku frowned, “Why are your bags packed, Vegeta?”

Vegeta inhaled sharply but didn’t answer.

“You were going to leave, weren’t you?”

“What does it matter…?” Vegeta argued, unable to just give in.

“Were you going to give me a chance to explain myself?”

“I just did.”

“You never answer me,” Goku smiled gently, urging him to talk.

Vegeta answered, still indignant, but inexplicably calm, “You said you’re not through explaining yourself.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“Let me think,” Goku hummed, looking up into the ceiling for a second, before refocusing back on Vegeta. He licked his lips and said, “My favorite color is blue- and orange- I can’t decide. I _have_ been with a man before, but it was nothing serious, and it was after Chi Chi died, so you’re _not_ a rebound _or_ an experiment. I think that you have a ton of amazing qualities that would take me hiring a poet to get even close to accurately describing. I never want to piss you off again unless it’s just for fun. I love _everything_ about you, especially how picky you are and how annoyed you get at how I eat. And the next time you ask me about my past, or something comes to mind, I’ll try to be more open about it. But really, I don’t like holding on to all that stuff about my past all that much. That’s why you seem to think I’m so happy all of the time, and I am, for the most part, because I just let everything go. I just… move on. That’s _my_ coping mechanism. But just because _I_ do, doesn’t mean that everyone else does. That doesn’t mean that what I do doesn’t matter to them, either. I’m learning that the hard way.”

Vegeta’s jaw dropped at his speech. He didn’t know whether he should be impressed or incredibly insulted.

“Look, I’m not good at this stuff…” Goku told him, inching closer, “But I don’t want to fight anymore, so, can we just…” he reached out again, going for Vegeta’s cheek this time, “… Talk some more again later?”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta gasped, trying to swat Goku’s hand away instinctually. His last front. He tried to take a step back, but his leg hit the bed and he lost his balance.

Before he could fall backwards, Goku caught onto his wrist with one hand and his waist with the other, pulling him close and keeping him from hitting the bed. Vegeta tried desperately to catch his breath, to gather his wits, to agree to Goku’s terms, and to finally _commit_ , but he was too embarrassed to even speak at the moment.

Goku looked him over once more, and Vegeta felt as though he wasn’t standing at all, anymore. He didn’t know how to explain it. He felt light. As though Goku had lifted something off of him. He continued to meet his gaze. He loved being so close to him. He loved having his eyes on him. He loved being held by him. He loved… him. And it was too much to go on ignored.

Goku whispered, “You said that you’d been thinking about leaving for a long time, now…” As he said it, the hand on Vegeta’s back pressed them closer.

“Yes,” Vegeta admitted, glancing at his bags that he’d stupidly left out on the floor of his bedroom, his biggest _almost_ blunder right out there in the open. His eyes drifted to Kakarot’s face once again.

“Can I convince you to stay?” Goku murmured, shifting his hold on him. He pulled the arm he held by Vegeta’s wrist to force Vegeta to wrap his arm around his shoulder as he let his hand drop to join the other around Vegeta’s back, clutching him impossibly closer.

Vegeta bluffed again, clutching onto him, “You better be damn convincing.”

“I can do that,” Goku promised and he leaned in towards him, drawing him in for a much-needed kiss.

Vegeta might as well have melted to putty in Kakarot’s arms he was so weak for him in that moment, still, he was stubborn, and he pulled back and said, “We aren’t done talking about this.”

“For now, we are,” Goku hummed, a smile wide and bright to the point of beaming, now on his face, and he leaned forward and kissed him again, moving his arms to hook beneath Vegeta’s ass as he lifted him up to place him on the bed, quickly covering him with his own body sufficiently.

“You think that all it’s going to take for me to drop this and move on is your dick?!” Vegeta blurted out, smirking up at him despite his half-hearted arguments. It felt so good to fall back into these games between them.

But Goku surprised him as he said, seriously, “I think that if we don’t at least resolve the last month between us right here and right now, _just like this_ , then we’re just going to go on arguing forever because neither of us knows how to express ourselves well enough to move on any other way.”

Vegeta blinked, his mouth falling open at the sheer audacity of this _amazing_ man.

Goku smiled down at him, “So, yeah, basically. And you know I’m right.”

“Fuck you!” Vegeta purred.

“God yes,” Goku answered. He kissed him fervently, effectively shutting him up. At least for the moment.

Vegeta couldn’t resist him any longer. He was through thinking about their conversation. There was nothing else to consider for now, and he certainly wasn’t against moving it along to _this_.

Goku pulled away from their kiss to take off his shirt. Vegeta took the time to do the same just as Goku began to go for his own pants, grinning down at Vegeta excitedly. Vegeta was smirking back, and he helped him pull his pants down, and as soon as Goku’s already semi-hard cock was freed Vegeta scooted himself forward to take it into his mouth.

Goku groaned out in appreciation and his cock grew in length and hardness within seconds. “We don’t have that much time, Vegeta…” he warned playfully, “You told Trunks and Goten not to be gone long…”

Vegeta pulled back and exclaimed, “At this point, who gives a fuck?”

Goku smiled.

Vegeta smirked up at him, gripping and stroking his cock as he said, “Remind me to tell you about Goten and Trunks after we’re through.”

“Ah, you mean about how _they’re_ together?” Goku chuckled, running a hand through Vegeta’s hair.

Vegeta had opened his mouth to bring Goku’s dick back inside of it, but he stopped at that comment and glared up at him, wondering, “How long have you known?”

Goku shook his head, “Not long. Gohan told me last night.”

Vegeta looked at him suspiciously but took him into his mouth again anyways.

“He asked me about you, too…” Goku murmured. Vegeta pulled away to respond but Goku pressed him forward, not letting him speak. Vegeta only partly protested. Goku groaned at Vegeta’s compliance. He admitted, “He’s the one that gave me hope that you hadn’t given up on me just yet.” Vegeta seemed to be pleased to hear that. He didn’t fight Goku’s grip on him, or his urging of his mouth over his cock. Goku sighed a pleased moan and muttered, “I’m so glad you didn’t leave, Vegeta.”

Vegeta sputtered and pulled back at that, arguing, “How in the—”

“Mmm. Training. I can read the tracks.”

“What does—”

“Not now, okay?” Goku grinned, pressing Vegeta’s head forward again, taunting the tip of his length onto his lips.

Vegeta growled, a flush coming into his face. Still, he darted his tongue out to taste him, and remarked, “You’re lucky I don’t like to talk.”

Goku nodded, “I am lucky… but that’s not why.”

Vegeta took his length into his mouth again, moaning over him as he deepthroated what he could, fondling his balls as he allowed himself to be pleasantly choked by Kakarot’s cock. He was painfully aware of his own hard on, and he groaned into the other man’s hardness as Goku started to thrust gently in and out of his willing mouth. Goku was right, everything else could wait.

Goku pulled away after few minutes of enjoying himself. He laid down beside Vegeta to take his pants and boxers completely off as Vegeta quickly removed his own. Both men eyed the other with lust and adoration. When Vegeta was through throwing his clothes onto the floor, Goku pulled Vegeta over to him and kissed him all over again. The kiss was soft but somehow firm. Their bodies drew closer, and Vegeta felt tension leaving him by the second the longer that Kakarot was working on him.

This was unlike any other time they’d ever been together. It was slower, passionate, and tender. While Goku’s hands explored Vegeta from neck to chest, Vegeta’s were running up Goku’s body in the opposite direction from thigh to hips. Vegeta gripped both his and Kakarot’s cock in one of his hands and he pumped both of them in unison slowly and deliberately. Goku moaned into his mouth at the sensation, still feeling down Vegeta’s soft skin, now going from his ribs to his abs, then around to his lower back and spreading over his taut ass.

Vegeta pressed his hand tighter around their cocks but pulled away from Goku’s mouth for a quick second to search through his drawer for the lube he keeps nearby. He returned to Goku again, shifting their positions so that he was comfortably beneath him. Goku shifted a little too, pressing his hips forwards as he kissed over Vegeta’s collarbone and his upper pecs. Vegeta twisted beneath him, breathing heavily already as he was pouring the liquid over their cocks. He dropped the bottle onto the bed and went back to what he was doing before, pumping them both at the same time, his breath hitching as Goku was moving his mouth in random patterns over his upper body. Goku’s hands were busy kneading his thighs and that alone was causing Vegeta’s lust to rise.

Goku suddenly grinned and hummed into his neck as he muttered, “Remember that one time I was trying to help you put away your groceries…”

Vegeta moaned, “Why are you bringing this up?”

“… And you snatched that one bag out of my hand?” Goku’s persisted with amusement in his voice, trapping Vegeta’s free hand in the sheets by his wrist.

 _“Why are you bringing this up?”_ Vegeta growled, a little amused as he attempted to look down at Goku who was still sucking on his neck, while he was still working their hard ons together.

Goku chuckled into the sensitive skin of his throat, forcing Vegeta’s neck to elongate as he was lapping at him sensually. He told him, “I _saw_ what was in the bag, Vegeta.”

Vegeta gasped as Goku’s mouth latched onto his neck a little rougher than before. Vegeta used his hand to squeeze harder and Goku moaned into him in a deep, enthusiastic voice.

Goku pulled away at that, letting Vegeta’s wrist go and smiling down at him. He snatched the small bottle from off the bed, opening it and coating his fingers before leaning back down, this time catching Vegeta’s mouth with his.

Vegeta relaxed into his kiss with a lazy hum, letting go of their cocks to wrap his arms around his neck instead, and he spread his legs as Goku’s hand moved between them. Goku pressed one finger inside of him, and Vegeta cried out a little bit, biting back the majority of his moan. Goku pulled back to watch his expressions as he worked him into a frenzy, but Vegeta still tried to keep his composure, even as he moaned out, his hands clutching his shoulders tightly.

Goku didn’t take long with this part, which was fine by Vegeta. If the other man was feeling half as turned on as he was, then a little forcefulness between them wasn’t going to hurt anything. Besides, they weren’t sure how much time they had left, and they needed this now.

Goku was quick to place himself at Vegeta’s entrance, but _torturously slow_ to press inside.

Vegeta panted, shivered, and threw his head back, still trying to hold back his cries.

Goku sheathed himself inside of him relishing in the intensity of the heat and the tightness surrounding his cock. He told Vegeta that he was sexy, and then said, “You have no idea how badly I’ve been missing this.”

Vegeta let out a whine he hadn’t intended to as Goku pulled back then pressed in again. He answered in a gruff voice, although his face portrayed the true emotion in his words as he said, “Yes I do…”

“Yeah?” Goku groaned, rolling his hips forward yet again.

Vegeta hissed in pleasure, “The thought that we weren’t ever going to do this again crossed my mind when I was packing to leave…”

“Forget all that…” Goku commanded, something serious coming over his hazy gaze. He rocked into him deeper, harder, yet all the more loving as he said, “Don’t ever think about it again…” 

It was practically forgotten, replaced by the talented thrusts of a well-endowed cock, wielded by a man Vegeta _actually fucking loved_. Their experienced only heightened the longer it went on.

“Don’t stop…” Vegeta murmured between gasps.

Goku groaned above him, his passion written all over his face and expressed acutely by his body, and his every affectionate caress. He answered in a feverish tone and a wavering voice, “I don’t want to, but I might just cum right now if you keep looking at me like that.”

Vegeta smirked and reached down to pull on his own cock, his pleasure was only intensifying the longer Kakarot was inside of him. The more he was giving him. And he took it all. Every. Single. Part of him.

“Are you _trying_ to make me cum?” Goku grunted seductively and he rocked his hips even harder, maneuvering his place inside of him and pressing even deeper.

Vegeta knew he was moaning like crazy, but he honestly didn’t care. He answered, “You’re going to make me… Kahhahhh!” He jerked, his orgasm slamming through him as Goku was slamming into him.

Goku cried out his name as Vegeta’s cock sputtered onto their chests and their stomachs, just as taken off guard as Vegeta had been, and he came inside of him quickly, milking every last moment of it that he could.

Goku pulled out of him and flopped down at his side, panting, smiling, handsome, and serene.

Vegeta smirked over at him and slid his hand down his face.

“Mmm,” Goku hummed, reaching out to cup his hand, kissing his palm sweetly.

“We should get dressed,” Vegeta whispered, spent, “The boys still need to be talked to.”

“Aww,” Goku wined, burying his head in one of Vegeta’s pillows. He grinned mischievously, “You didn’t do that already?”

“Me?” Vegeta balked, amused, “That’s on you.”

“No way,” Goku chuckled, and he argued, “That’s not on _me_. They’re not gonna listen to _me_!”

Vegeta outright laughed at that. “Well, Gohan got to them first… So we shouldn’t have to say much, but we ought to say something.”

Goku grinned, “Okay. Whatever you think… It’s gonna be awfully hard to do without letting them know that we know about them…”

“Trunks knows that I know,” Vegeta chuckled, “So we can assume that they _both_ think that’s what we’ve been talking about as well.”

“Oohh,” Goku nodded, sitting up to rest his head in his hand, his other hand splayed across Vegeta’s chest, where his heart was still racing away. Goku murmured, “So you’re fine with it right? With them being together?”

“Of course, I am,” Vegeta answered quickly, much quicker than he usually would.

“So…” Goku mused, “What about telling them about us?”

“Let’s not give them a heart attack,” he snickered.

Goku laughed, “I’ll follow your lead?”

Vegeta nodded, “Sure.”

Goku’s grin only widened. Vegeta let it wash over him, if only for a moment. They got up, cleaned up, and got dressed quickly, though. By the time they’d reached the kitchen and were discussing getting something to eat themselves, Trunks and Goten came back inside of the home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much Baby_Buu for helping me through this! 
> 
> I really hope you guys have enjoyed this story! I have decided that the next chapter IS the last chapter. There won't be an epilogue, but I hope that it sums up everything nicely and that you have enjoyed this story.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	23. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! It's a long one but I feel like it reads fast and I hope that it gives you ALL the warm and fuzzy feelings that you've been looking for :) :) :) Thank you so much for reading-- Enjoy!

Ch 23

Trunks and Goten came back inside of the home. They looked downright petrified, or at least, they were scared and nervous enough that they couldn’t completely hide it.

“Hey boys,” Goku smiles at them, “Why don’t you two have a seat?”

Goten and Trunks did as Goku requested. Vegeta very conveniently stood in the kitchen, looking through his fridge for something to eat, something to distract himself with, anything. He was grateful that their timing had been so good. He wasn’t ready for this discussion, though. While his face was a mask well forged over his emotions, this was still a lot all at once.

Goku turned to him, watching him. Vegeta glanced over at the other man. He wished they had their own language right now, so he could explain to him how truly unprepared he was to have this conversation, or any future conversations for that matter, with their sons. Goku’s small smile was speaking to him though. There was something comforting in it. There was something warm and embracing about his eyes, too. Vegeta smirked at him before straightening his face and shutting the refrigerator door.

He stepped over to the dining room table, taking a stand beside Goku as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked over the boys with mock scrutiny. Neither young man dared to say anything.

Goku said to Vegeta, gesturing to their kids, “ _They_ went out to eat- maybe we should have gone with them. I’m starving! What about you?” and he gave him another wide grin.

If Vegeta hadn’t known him any better, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize the hint of nervousness behind that smile. After a moment, he smirked and replied, “You’re always hungry.” He blinked and hid a cringe as he thought, _‘Shit!’_ His mask was completely cracking, and under such slight pressure! He shouldn’t have said that. That sounded _way_ too familiar for something for him to say to Kakarot. His own nervousness grew.

Goku only laughed a small, light chuckle, but he was still waiting for Vegeta to make a move in one direction of conversation or another.

Vegeta looked over at Trunks and then at Goten. He bit back a sigh as both boys looked between their fathers in silence. Finally, Vegeta said, “Kakarot and I need to have a talk with you two…”

Trunks shifted, “Yeah…” and he glanced at Goten, many thoughts clearly crossing his mind. Goten glanced over at him, and his face looked just as empty and open and innocent as Vegeta had seen Kakarot’s at times.

As Vegeta shifted his gaze back to Trunks, his son- the highly intelligent young man he was more than familiar with- he suddenly had a realization. He looked over at Goten again and saw something he might never have otherwise noticed. The look in Goten’s eyes, the blankness on his brow… Vegeta studied him close. That is not an empty face that he’s looking at; it’s the face of a young man trying desperately to hide his embarrassment at himself. It’s the face of a young man trying to hide sorrow. It’s a well-made disguise, hiding his emotion and guilt.

“We’re…” Vegeta starts, but he can’t get it out, too moved by what he saw of Goten in that moment.

Goku shifts to stand closer to him, and he says, finishing Vegeta’s sentence, “We’re happy for you.”

Trunks’ eyes light up as he looks up at Goku. Goten’s eyes widen, and his whole frame tenses. Trunks’ lips turn into a small, joyful smirk at Vegeta and then he looks over at Goten excitedly.

Goten avoids his boyfriend’s gaze and slowly raises his eyes to his father, searching. Meekly, he asks, “Really, Dad?”

“Yeah!” Goku smiles, “Of course, Goten!” He turns to Vegeta and elbows him lightly.

Vegeta glares at Goku for the action, but he turns to Goten and Trunks and nods in agreement. He felt a pressure inside of himself to say _more_.

Trunks stands up and tells Goku, a hand in a fist in the air in front of him as he expresses, eager to make a good impression, “I’m so sorry about what happened, Goku! I- I never meant for him to get hurt! I swear we won’t be doing anything like that again! I’m going to make sure that he’s safe!”

“Truuunks!” Goten wines.

Goku chuckles at them and reaches out to take hold of one of Trunks’ hands, “It’s okay, Trunks. It wasn’t your fault.”

Trunks pauses, his breath hitches. Shaking and emotional, his hand slowly opening in Goku’s hold, he nods at him, but Vegeta can tell he still blames himself. That’s going to take some time to heal, but he’s certain that it will.

What is this new pressure in his chest? Vegeta still couldn’t speak.

Goku firmly holds onto Trunks’ hand, shaking it in an inviting manner as he tells him, “Don’t worry so much. Everything’s fine, right? I’m just happy that it wasn’t worse. I think you two learned your lesson well enough, yeah? And I know you’ll look after each other as best as you can, from now on.”

After the initial shock subsides, Trunks grips his hand firmly back, as his eyes sharpen in determination. He replies, “You bet!”

Goku pulls his hand away, placing both of his fists on his hips as he looks them both over, pleased with the two of them.

Vegeta, moved by the reluctance to celebrate that was still obvious on Goten’s face, glances at Goku. Goku turns to him with nothing but smiles. Vegeta snorts at him and rolls his eyes. He looks back at the boys and thinks, _‘Fuck it.’_ This pressure inside of him has to be released. He lifts his chin and says to his son, “Well, Trunks,” he motions to Goku with the tilt of his head, “You _said_ you wanted to shake his hand.”

A look of sheer confusion passes through both of the boy’s eyes, as well as Goku’s, before Trunks bellows, “ _WHAT?!_ ”

Vegeta closes his eyes and smirks.

Trunks points at Goku and stammers, still yelling, “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU WERE SEEING _HIM_?! THE WHOLE TIME?!”

It was Goten’s turn to brighten up this time, and he lifts his eyes to both Vegeta and his father and asks, “You guys… are together?”

Vegeta’s heart swells at the optimism he heard in that question. Somehow, he knew that Goten was wondering if this meant that his father would be around more often. When he caught Goten’s gaze he nodded at him respectfully and searched his face for any sign of disappointment or disapproval. Goten slowly smiled at him. The pressure went away.

Trunks continued to stare, slack jawed, as Goku laughs and reaches up to scratch the back of his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks and over his nose. Vegeta found the look sickeningly cute on him.

Goku admits, “Well, not the _whole_ time!”

Relieved at the approval he saw in Goten, and at _finally_ having everything out in the open, Vegeta explains, smirking up at Goku, “Pretty much, though.”

Goku grinned down at him. “I knew you were gonna crack,” he tells him.

“Tch. Whatever,” Vegeta retorts.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” Trunks cries, in utter disbelief.

Vegeta tries his best to fight back his own blush, and quickly straightens his face, replacing any contentedness with annoyance as he declares, ignoring his son, “Kakarot and I are going to go out to get something to eat.”

“Okay…” Goten nods at them, still smiling gently.

Trunks is still balking at them.

Eager to run, Vegeta tells Goku, “Come on! Hurry up! Let’s go.”

“Okay, Vegeta,” Goku hums, “See you boys later, okay? Bye!” He waves them off, grinning like an idiot.

They head out the door quickly, leaving behind two suddenly very animated, but also very relieved, young men.

Vegeta shows up at Capsule Corp. two weeks later with intentions of taking out Bra. She starts school next week, so he wanted to make sure he got to spend some time with her before their time becomes a little more limited.

Bra, expecting her father’s arrival, bounds up to him and clings her little arms around his waist. She’s getting so big, Vegeta could hardly stand it. He asks her what she wants to do today, and she rattles of a list of demands. He smirks down at her. He’d do anything for her. She knows it, too.

When they got back from spending the morning together, Yamcha was at Capsule Corp. waiting for Bulma to come out of whatever has her so preoccupied at the moment. The man smiles nervously at Vegeta.

He says hello to which Vegeta gives a curt nod. Vegeta tells Bra goodbye, and she runs off. Just as Vegeta was about to turn to leave, Yamcha calls out for him.

“Yes?” Vegeta asks, curious enough to not be completely annoyed.

“I, uh,” Yamcha stutters, “I guess I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for… accepting me.”

Vegeta looks him over and gives a small, “Hn,” of consideration, but he doesn’t reply.

In his nervousness, Yamcha adds, “I just… I don’t know how hard it must be…”

“Hopefully, you never will,” Vegeta glares at him. It wasn’t so much a warning as it was an expression of perspective.

Yamcha’s face reddens, but he nods in understanding and says, “I love her. And your kids. Very much. And from what I’ve heard about you, you’re a pretty cool guy yourself.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Vegeta remarks.

Bulma snaps at him, coming into the room from the hallway, “Oh, Vegeta, knock it off.”

Vegeta smirks.

She goes to stand by Yamcha and tells him, “Yamcha! I know you don’t know Vegeta very well but giving him a compliment is no way to hit it off.”

Yamcha doesn’t say anything to that. He just stands there looking uncomfortable.

“Besides,” Bulma smiles, “His ego is big enough as it is.”

Yamcha laughs it all off as Vegeta leaves.

As Vegeta heads back to his apartment, still on a high that he couldn’t shake and wasn’t exactly sure he _deserved_ , he tries to distinguish between what is real and what is fantasy in his life.

It’s true that Kakarot is real, but he’s also an absolute fantasy. It’s true that having his family around is real, but also not quite the fantasy it had once been. It’s true that all of the epiphanies he’s had over the course of the last couple of weeks have been real, but they were all nothing but fantasies to begin with. Illusions in his own mind of how things “are” verses how they “should be” and it all came down to his own perspective on things.

He knew, more than he wanted to admit, that he’d be the one standing in his own way for the larger part of his life, and while that notion was practically allegorical, it was still _real_. He didn’t feel ashamed by it, only enlightened. He knew that he wasn’t _done_ with it, and that the journey towards self-awareness and better understanding had only just begun for him, but he was fine with that. If he wasn’t learning something or improving in one way or another, then there would be no quality of life, and he couldn’t have that. He’d been feeling stagnant for a long time, and he was finally on the other end of that phase of his life.

Still, things were changing, but he’s accepted that fact. Besides, there’s still a lot to figure out, and a lot of loose ends to tie up in his life. There’s still a bit of sadness in his son’s departure, but there’s happiness too, and both of those things were going to take some getting used to.

Trunks _was_ irritated at his father for lying to him for so long about Goku, but, with a little introspection and a _lot_ more conversation than Vegeta would have liked, Trunks realized that he’d done the same thing, for practically all of the same reasons, and he couldn’t stay mad. Neither could Vegeta. Besides, having the Son’s around somehow brightened the Brief’s world. Everything else between them was going to have to be put behind them in order for them to move on, and Vegeta was willing to let it go. Trunks was just a kid, after all, and still learning about life.

Trunks decided to move into his mother’s place shortly after Goku came back into their lives. Vegeta didn’t mind, really. It’s his choice. He’ll be eighteen next month and there was no point in trying to keep him around any longer. Besides, he and Vegeta might be getting along better, but they were still a far cry from best friends, and since they were _both_ in relationships with men that their significant others know far too well, moving out was really the only choice.

Trunks did surprise both Vegeta and Bulma, though, when he came to them with a proposition to not go to college this year. Actually, Vegeta was kind of impressed with his son. He’s asked them both to sit down for the discussion, (which Vegeta thought was going to be of a different variety) and he told his parents his plan. Well, part of his plan. After a long chat, mostly on Trunks’ and Bulma’s end, both parents agreed that it was fine on one condition; he works for his mother at Capsule Corp. Trunks has since started, and he seemed to be filling his position just fine.

Bulma approved of the fact that Trunks would have some hands-on experience in the technology that their family makes, and Trunks found that he really did enjoy working for the love of science itself. He was fortunate too, to have found a very good friend in Gohan, who was now his mentor and lab partner. And at least Bulma knew she could trust her son to keep their company’s secrets safe.

Vegeta approved of the fact that Trunks working would keep him out of any lazy habits he might form from _not_ having a job or school to attend and keep his sharp mind busy. He knew that there was another reason behind Trunks putting off his schooling, too, but he didn’t dare tell Bulma. It wasn’t his business to tell, and while Vegeta insisted, in private, that Trunks comes out to his mom before the year is up, he wasn’t about to _make_ him.

He thought it was interesting that Trunks wanted to stick around for Goten and wait until he could join him at college the following year. Taking the year off wouldn’t make a difference of anything in the long run and having him under closer watch at home wasn’t going to hurt anything either. Besides, Goten was never the problem behind Trunks’ rebellious ways, and Vegeta didn’t see any harm in them trying to stay together as opposed to attempting a long-distance relationship. Actually, Vegeta thought it was very mature of Trunks and he was pleased to see such growth in such son, especially in such a short amount of time.

So, with Trunks now out of the house entirely, all of his things moved away, Vegeta arrived at his apartment and was left to his own devices, completely unbothered, for the first time in a long time. He was still trying to figure out what to do with himself exactly. He still hadn’t rectified some of the things he’d ended when he’d planned to leave before, like getting a new bank account, for instance, or joining a new gym (although technically he supposed he belonged to Goku’s as that’s where he’s been going almost every day now since Goku got back). Still, he hadn’t found a job, and he was very keen on trying to figure out how much longer he could go on without one before things got really bad.

He sat down to look over his finances and check his emails. It’s a Friday, and if nothing has come in, he’s just going to have to let it go for the weekend, but he at least wanted to know where he stood for right now.

He and Kakarot had talked a little bit about some things, and opened up about _everything_ , but that didn’t mean that Vegeta was going to start telling him every little thought that came to his mind about his every problem. He’s always been able to figure it out in the past. He wasn’t about to give up on that now.

His phone went off. Without looking he picked up and said, “What?” still scrolling through his emails with annoyance. Damn, there was nothing there.

“Hey! You being extra grumpy right now, or what?” Goku asked, the words coming out in a bit of a rush.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, only partly paying attention, “I’m busy, what?”

“Can you come to the gym?” Goku asked him, ignoring his mood and the fact that he said he was busy.

“What for?” Vegeta wondered.

“I, uh, I need you to come to the gym. It’s important,” Goku pressed.

Vegeta was suspicious, but he knew there was no point in letting himself be stressed out _and_ frustrated if he didn’t have to be. “Fine, I’ll be there shortly,” he told him.

“Kay!” was Goku’s reply before Vegeta hung up on him.

Vegeta grabbed his gym bag, along with a second duffle for _other_ clothes and he was fairly quick to head out the door. Arriving at Kakarot’s gym didn’t take long, but when he pulled up, he wondered how Kakarot had been so calm over the phone.

There were people standing outside of the gym, a firetruck, some cop cars, and an ambulance, all surrounding the building, although from the outside everything seemed fine.

Vegeta got out of his car quickly and ran past the people out front and headed for the front door.

“Hey, man, there was a fire, don’t go in there!” someone called out to him.

Vegeta paid him no mind and went inside. The scent of smoke and burning rubber hit him hard. The lights were flickering and only half of them were working. He glanced around quickly, assessing the damage. Whatever fire there had been was promptly put out by a lot of water. One of the machines must have sparked, probably sending an electric jolt across several others. The damage was far worse on the inside of the building than Vegeta had imagined from the looks of the outside, though.

“Sir, you can’t be in here!” one of the firemen called, “We’re trying to get everyone cleared out!”

Vegeta ignored him and continued searching the room, looking around for Kakarot. When he spotted him, he was speaking to another fireman off in the corner, away from most of the damage.

“What in the fucking hell happened in here?!” Vegeta cried interrupting them.

“Sir, you need to go back outside,” the fireman insisted.

“No, no,” Goku told him, “He’s okay.” He turned to Vegeta and smiled sadly, “No one was too seriously hurt or anything, but I just…” he paused, “Well, this is new to me, you know? I guess I kind of didn’t know what to do?”

“You have insurance?” Vegeta asked him, looking him over for any distress. He seemed fine, albeit a little stressed.

“Yeah,” Goku nodded solemnly.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, “Where’s your paperwork?”

“At my house,” Goku answered simply.

“Good!” Vegeta told him, and he grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the front door, “Now get the hell out of here and let them to their job.”

The fireman approved of Vegeta’s insistence. He explained, as Vegeta was practically shoving Goku out the door, that they were trying to figure out the cause, and that the police were currently getting statements. He said that they were trying to make sure that the building was clear, and that Goku had refused to leave until he was certain everyone was out.

 _‘Sounds about right,’_ Vegeta thought, smirking. He followed Goku out, and they let the two firemen inside continue to search the premises.

“What the hell happened?” Vegeta growled at Goku, who, now that he was seeing him in the light of day, was covered in smog and ash.

Goku sighed, “I’m not really sure. I was in the middle of teaching a class when I heard an explosion,” he frowned, “When I came out the fire was moving quick. I had gotten Mr. Latier and Ms. French outside and called the cops- they were closest to the explosion- but I had to go back inside,” he shook his head and sighed again, “I don’t know. It all happened really fast.”

Vegeta nodded at him but didn’t say anything. He looked around at the crowd of the people surrounding them, some now coming up to speak to Goku, other’s simply remarking on the building and what they’d seen. Some belonged, they had clearly been working out, others were just passerby’s that stopped to see what all the fuss was about.

Vegeta turned to Kakarot, “Do you have a lawyer?”

“Huh?” he asked, “No?”

Vegeta nodded, “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Goku nodded and headed over to the ambulance to check on the people inside.

Vegeta went to his car and pulled out his phone to call Bulma. He told her everything as quickly as he could and requested use of one of her lawyers, the one _not_ busy on her own case. She said she didn’t mind at all.

“Anything for Goku!” she cried.

That’s exactly what Vegeta was hoping she’d say. She told him to stay by Goku and make sure he doesn’t talk directly to any police and she insisted that she would get her lawyer to contact his insurance as soon as Vegeta can get the paperwork to her. She promised Vegeta that by the time this was all over, the gym would be better than new. It was the least she could do. He smirked told her that sounded like a plan, and then he headed over to tell Goku to back off and let the paramedics do their jobs.

Goku was reluctant to back away, but he did so at Vegeta’s urging, once he was satisfied that everything was fine.

The look of disappointment on his face panged at Vegeta, but there was nothing he could do about it, for now. The people surrounding them talked to Goku, expressing their sorrow, their confusion, and their questions. This included the police, but the cops seemed satisfied with everything they’d heard thus far, and when they asked Goku for a statement, all he said was that he hopes everyone is okay. They couldn’t get him to say more, and Vegeta was relieved he _didn’t_ say anything more, but as he looked over his handsome face, he remembered that Goku has been in the spotlight before, and he realized that he knew how to handle himself during intense moments such as these.

He remained by Goku’s side, listening, and watching everything going on around them, until finally the ambulance, the firetrucks, the cops, the bystanders, and the members of the gym all left. After that he drove Goku over to his house to clean up and so they could get something to eat, leaving Goku’s car at the gym for now.

When they got to Goku’s house, he was not looking enthused by any means. Vegeta couldn’t stand seeing him like this, but his mind was reeling on what to do.

Vegeta asked him, “Can you tell me where your paperwork is?”

“Yeah,” Goku sighed, “It’s in the bedroom in a box under my bed.”

“Go take a shower. Try to relax,” Vegeta told him, heading for his bedroom. Goku headed for the showers absentmindedly.

It didn’t take Vegeta long to find the paperwork and send over quality copies of everything to Bulma. Vegeta found everything he needed in there. The lease to the building, the insurance papers, Goku’s instruction license, which was thankfully well within its date requirements, and all of his billing information. As he looked it all over, he wondered at just how much money Kakarot had actually put into his gym and he silently marveled at the man. He really _was_ trying to be better to his kids if he was willing to take it this far and invest so much.

When he got the ping from his phone that Bulma had received everything and that she was sending it off now, Vegeta was relieved. Between her, her lawyers, and himself helping Kakarot out in this, everything was going to be just fine.

And it was. A month later the builders that Bulma had sent over via the insurance claim fixed everything and even improved upon it. The gym was up and running again. She even paid for the hospital bills of the injured gym members. Between that, the upscaling of the building and its equipment, and Goku’s valor in handling the situation itself, the gym gained even more attention and became a very popular place for locals to come. He was something of a hero in their eyes. Vegeta was happy for him, he expected no less, but it only made Goku busier.

Goku was grateful for everything turning out so well, but he had his hands full, and he also felt very indebted to Bulma and to Vegeta for their help. He’s been trying to show Vegeta how much he appreciates him in his own ways, but when he got the chance to take Bulma up on her offer to meet her for dinner at Capsule Corp., he took it. He didn’t think twice about if Vegeta was going to be there or not, he just wanted to thank her for everything that she’d done for him.

 _She_ had ulterior motives.

When Goku arrived, he was surprised to see more people than he was expecting, but there were some that he saw that he _wasn’t_ expecting. Goku and Yamcha cried out in glee in unison at seeing one another.

“Hey, buddy, long time no see!” Yamcha smiled, shaking his hand.

“Yamcha! Man is it good to see you! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?!” Goku smiled, beyond ecstatic.

It really is a small world. Vegeta had not been expecting any of this when Bulma invited him over for dinner, _insisting_ that he come, or else. Gohan, Trunks, Goten, and Bra were all there as well, and Vegeta was beginning to get a little suspicious at what this is all about. Still, he tried to remain under the radar, and he watched from the sidelines as his ex’s new man and his own man talked to one another like old friends.

He hadn’t known that the two of them were acquaintances until earlier this afternoon when Yamcha expressed that he was excited to see Goku (which Vegeta was surprised at just then hearing that Goku was going to be joining them), but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised about the two of them knowing each other. Apparently Yamcha really _was_ a fighter at some point in time, and the two of them had fought in a tournament together some years ago. Bulma, upon finding out for herself that the two men knew one another, had hoped to get a nice little reunion between them.

Vegeta had wondered, too, at the fact that Gohan was there, but apparently when he got the chance to “meet” Bulma’s boyfriend earlier on the week, and he realized that he knew him from when he was a kid, Bulma asked him to join them for dinner, too. She knew that Trunks was going to have Goten over, anyways, and since Goku was going to be there, well, she figured she might as well make it a family thing.

Vegeta tried his best to remain uninvolved and aloof, but when they all sat down for dinner, Goku sat down right beside him. Vegeta tried not to blush at the fact, and as Gohan gave Vegeta a knowing smile, he glared at him. Ignoring the bright young man, he simply listened to everyone’s chatter about yesteryears and time gone by, and about what’s been happening recently and how happy they were to be able to get together like this. Friends knowing friends, making friends and such, it was all very coincidental. Which was strange because Vegeta didn’t believe in coincidence.

Vegeta wondered why he was even here. He figured that Bulma had invited him as a formality more than anything- since he’d helped so much with the situation with Goku’s gym- but he wasn’t sure. The woman could be conniving. Surely, she doesn’t know what’s going on between Kakarot and himself. Does she?

It’s not that he _minded_ being there, but it was strange, and Vegeta did feel a little out of place. He supposed this is what that ominous feeling of change had been alluding to some time back. He guessed that he’d somehow known that the tides of change were going to sweep each of them away at different points in their lives, but he realized that while things were changing, the differences weren’t bad.

It wasn’t so bad that his family was no longer restricted to simply himself and his two kids and his ex-wife. He’d thought that it might bother him, never getting the opportunity to dine with _just them_ again, but now he wondered why he should allow it to bother him at all. As long as they were happy, that’s what mattered, and they did seem happy, after all.

“So!” Bulma turned to Goku, “I hear the gyms been going great! You’re super busy, aren’t you? Busier than ever even, from what I hear.”

“Yeah,” Goku said, mouthful of food, “Too busy! Thank you again for all your help!”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and gave Trunks a disgusted look. Trunks laughed under his breath but looked away before they got caught.

“Don’t mention it!” Bulma chimed, then she smiled a mischievous smile, and said, “Oh! You know, Goku, before I forget! Since I have you and Vegeta _both_ here- I’ve been meaning to bring this up- I have a _brilliant_ _idea_!”

“What’s up?” Goku asked, unsuspecting.

The hairs on the back of Vegeta’s neck stood up, though. He could sense her meddling like an incoming storm, _and_ her suspicion. _She knows_.

“Why don’t you get _Vegeta_ to help you run the gym?”

“Hm?” Goku asked, chewing as he was thinking about it. He turned to Vegeta.

“That is not your place to suggest such a thing, woman!” Vegeta growled at her, embarrassment all over his face, “It’s _Kakarot’s_ gym—”

“Yeah, yeah, but hear me out, okay?!” Bulma was still smiling, “You know _a lot_ about products and promotion, about _money management_ , marketing. Hell, I bet it wouldn’t take you any time to finish a program to get his Personal Trainer’s license. Then you could help teach classes with Goku _and_ take care of all of the paperwork, too. That way, Goku won’t be so bogged down with everything,” she smiled knowingly and looked directly at Vegeta, “Besides, then the two of _you_ will get to spend even _more_ time together!”

Goku swallowed his mouth full and smiled, “That’s a great idea!” He turned to Vegeta, “What do you think?”

“Kakarot!” Vegeta cried.

“I think you’d be an awesome instructor! A lot of the people at the gym really admire you already!”

“Kakarot!” Vegeta growled again, trying to hint at him to shut up. He wasn’t taking the hint.

“What?” Goku asked, blinking innocently at him. He shifted a little in his chair before telling him, “Actually, I’ve been thinking about asking you for a while, now, but I wasn’t sure how you’d respond…”

“Stop!” Vegeta ground out through gritted teeth as everyone at the table was still watching them closely.

“I mean,” Goku explained, “You’d be saving me from having to hire someone else, and you’re already there all the time as it is…”

Vegeta’s blush only grew. He strongly considered slapping Kakarot across the back of his head, but when laughter burst out all around them, he resisted the urge. He dragged his hand down his face for a moment to hide, but then he looked up and glared at his ex-wife from across the table.

“I _knew_ it!” Bulma cried triumphantly, “Now how long has _this_ been going on, hmm?” she pointed at them.

“Knew what?” Yamcha and Bra wondered.

Gohan, Trunks, and Goten chuckled.

Goku “eeped” as he realized that they’d been caught (a bit too late) but he didn’t say anything else. Vegeta continued to glare at her.

“ _He’s_ the one, huh?” Bulma smiled, pulling her hand away, “Well, it all makes sense, now, doesn’t it, Vegeta? I should have known! Honestly I’m surprised it took me so long to figure it out.”

“‘The one’ what? What’s going on?” Yamcha wondered.

There was a blip of silence before Vegeta admitted, “Kakarot and I are dating,” startling Kakarot _and_ himself.

“Really?!” Yamcha cried, clearly the only one not in the loop besides Bra, who didn’t fully understand but wasn’t against it, either way.

“And why isn’t anyone else at this table surprised, hmm?” Bulma wondered, looking at the faces of the other three boys.

Gohan smiled and laughed gently, pacifying her, “I guess we all had our suspicions, didn’t we?”

Bulma smiled at him but turned her gaze back to Vegeta and Goku and said, “You could have told me sooner, you know!” She didn’t wait for a response-she knew Vegeta wouldn’t give her one- so she added, “I’m happy for your guys! Take him up on the offer, Vegeta. And Goku! If you ever want to talk, about _anything_ , I’ll be here.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and scoffed, looking away.

Goku chuckled.

“Huh,” Yamcha shifted, thinking, but he didn’t say anything else.

Bra was still soaking everything in. Goten and Trunks were looking at their father’s proudly, but neither of them dared to say anything. Gohan was simply smiling contentedly.

Bulma’s mother came into the room offering the group desert. Bra and Goku cheered. Vegeta rolled his eyes. The tension in the room practically disappeared.

A month later, Vegeta found himself employed at Goku’s gym after Goku begged and annoyed him to the point of caving. He couldn’t turn him down. He knew that Goku really needed the help and Vegeta still hadn’t found anywhere else to work. It bothered him that he was binding himself to someone else again, but he figured that it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. He needed to be working anyways, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on in this apartment as it is, and Goku’s gratitude for what he was doing made it all worth the effort, regardless of his own worries.

So, for now, Vegeta drowned himself paperwork after finishing his workout nearly every day. He still didn’t know how this whole thing was supposed to work as far as the way a gym is supposed to be run is concerned, but he knew he could figure it out. He’s been going through all of the income, and the expenses, while trying to figure out what was what. He wasn’t sure what his own salary should be, versus what Goku should be getting. Actually, the whole thing was an absolute mess. On the other hand, it was the perfect task for someone as experienced and as _bored_ as Vegeta.

He figured, if he’s going to jump into such a big project, he might as well do it right, and go all the way. So, he’s also already started on getting his instructor’s license, _and_ his personal trainer’s license, because yes, he was definitely going to be licensed in everything he could be, and no, he didn’t have a problem with taking them at the same time. He didn’t even have a problem with doing that and trying to figure out the situation with the gym’s finances, either. At one point, he wondered how Kakarot had ever been getting along without him.

It was trying, though. Whenever he was at the gym and he wasn’t working out, he was busy trying to create a system in Goku’s paperwork where there wasn’t one. Then whenever he got back home, either to his apartment or to Goku’s, he spent his free time studying what he needed to pass his courses. It was riveting, too- this feeling of moving on into something new- this feeling of taking what you know and applying it to something else- this feeling of actual personal growth. It’s been a long time since Vegeta had felt such a thing.

The best part of it all, though, was Kakarot himself. Having him around just made every day that much more enjoyable. No matter how irritated Vegeta might get, at him, at himself, or at circumstances, the other man just seemed to brush it all off, content and satisfied every day and every night. Vegeta loved that about him, was completely annoyed about it, too, but he didn’t want it any other way. If anything, he was intent on showing Kakarot that this wasn’t a waste of time. He wanted to show him that being with him _was_ worth the effort. The other man was somehow pushing him to be the best version on himself, without ever even trying.

That damn man.

Vegeta was in the middle of something on his computer when there came a knock to his front door. It was opened quickly and Goku came bounding in with food.

“Why is your front door unlocked, Vegeta?”

“Because you said you were on your way and I didn’t want to be interrupted again,” Vegeta answered him mechanically, never even glancing up at him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see him, but if he stopped and looked at him, he was going to get distracted. Kakarot is _incredibly_ distracting.

Goku hummed at that but didn’t comment further as he went to place the food out on the kitchen table. “Time to eat, yeah? Take a break. I didn’t think you’d be working _this_ hard.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vegeta growled, and stubbornly kept his place in his chair, never stopping, never looking up.

Goku grinned at him, hands on his hips. “This food sure smells good, doesn’t it?”

He was trying to bait him. Vegeta was trying not to fall for it.

“You know, Vegeta, I like spending time with you, too. I’m more fun than that computer.”

Vegeta smirked but kept on typing.

“Heyy… You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“No, I did not know. What _else_ could you possibly want from me? As if I’m not doing enough.”

“I know you are,” Goku smiled, “I appreciate you, Vegeta.” He came closer, “Did you know that?”

“You better. You’re a hopeless mess without me.”

Goku chuckled as he bent down in front of him, trying to get into his line of vision. “You look so serious right now.”

Vegeta ignored him.

Goku whistled, “You sure are concentrating on whatever you’re doing.”

“You sure are trying to distract me,” Vegeta replied, his eyes finally flickering up to Goku’s brilliant face. He looked away quickly. Too distracting.

“I have something important to ask you… Are you listening?”

“As if you’d let me ignore you,” Vegeta drawled, amused.

After moment of trying to get Vegeta’s undivided attention but failing, Goku said outright, “Move in with me.”

He succeeded in gaining Vegeta’s undivided attention after all. Vegeta stopped typing and looked up. “… What?”

“Move in with me,” Goku said again. It wasn’t a question.

Vegeta’s brows furrowed. Had he heard him right? He blinked, but he couldn’t answer.

“I already asked Goten. He said he’s cool with it,” Goku added.

Vegeta still just stared.

Goku reached out and took the computer off of his lap, setting it aside as he dropped to his knees in front of him. Vegeta pulled back, but Goku caught his hands and scooted closer.

“Kakarot,” Vegeta looked away.

“Move in with me Vegeta. Come on, it makes sense,” Goku insisted, “It’s the _only_ thing that makes sense.”

“You are not just going to swoop into my life and right all the wrongs in it!” Vegeta blurted out. He hadn’t been expecting this. He’d thought about it, yes, but expected it? No.

“Well, that’s… uh… That’s kind of how it’s been going though, right? For both of us, yeah?” Goku smiled.

Vegeta’s brows furrowed as he wondered if Kakarot heard himself speaking sometimes.

“Come on, Vegeta…” Goku said, effectively coming between Vegeta’s legs, his elbows by his thighs, his hands gripping his shoulders, kneading them. “By you moving in… We won’t have to travel so much back and forth. When we say home, we’ll know which home we’re talking about. We’ll only have _one_ set of bills together. And after another half a year or so, it’ll just be the two of us. And… I won’t be wishing you were with me whenever I go to sleep at night and you’re not there, because you always will be.”

“Kakarot, I—”

“I want you to move in with me. Because I want you to move in with me.”

 _‘Damn him.’_ Vegeta couldn’t argue that logic. There was no arguing that kind of logic. “Fine!” he answered, but he was still embarrassed by the whole idea. They were going to have to _talk_ about it more later. Bleh.

Goku grinned and moved his hands down to squeeze Vegeta’s ribs before Vegeta could swat him away. Vegeta yelped and threatened him with his life if he did it again. Goku grinned, leaned forward and kissed him, but pulled away, only to say, “Get up! Let’s eat!”

Vegeta was dragged away. He couldn’t say no to him. He didn’t want to.

Trunks was finally 18 years old. Finally, officially, an adult. He realized that it meant nothing at all, other than the fact that he would now be responsible for himself legally. He was fine with that. He wasn’t planning on getting into any trouble, or so he says. Vegeta believed that he _would_ , but that if he did, he’d be just fine.

Vegeta and Goku were slowly moving in together, which was working out better than they had expected. Although Vegeta was still a little begrudging over the whole thing.

It wasn’t just about moving in, or about the new job. Even though moving in was a joint venture and Kakarot put Vegeta’s name on the lease at the gym as well, making it an even split between the two of them, Vegeta still felt like he was walking into something that he didn’t help build, just like Capsule Corp., and it bothered him. He just wasn’t sure he was contributing. Wasn’t sure he _deserved_ to get so lucky.

Kakarot was, though. He insisted that he hadn’t done it on his own, and he told him not to think that way. He declared that if it weren’t for him, and for Bulma, and if it weren’t for the few lasting relationships that he’s built with other people over his lifetime, that he wouldn’t have anything to show for himself. He promised Vegeta that _no one_ would have _anything_ to call their own without help from a friend every once in a while.

Vegeta blew off thinking about that for another time. He knew that somewhere in there Kakarot had a point, but Kakarot had been much better at building relationships than he was, stunted by his past or not, and Vegeta didn’t want to point that out. He didn’t feel he should have to. They were still in a fairly new relationship after all, there was plenty of time to figure out those types of things later on down the road.

Vegeta was busy enough as it is for right now. Here he is, many years of his life later, being forced to listen to the same mumbo jumbo that had him walking out of martial arts classes when he was younger in the first place. The irony was not lost on him. Clearly this is a lesson he needs to learn.

_“This is all about self-mastery. It’s about self-control. It’s about channeling your inner frustrations and letting them go.”_

That shit never did settle well with Vegeta’s angry mind, but he was going to try it again. And he was going to _prove_ that he was the master of himself after all.

So, he stayed busy. He worked on getting his licenses and planning out his class programs, which was coming along nicely. In fact, it was coming along quickly, much quicker than he’d anticipated. That was fine, though- something to finally look forward to.

Meanwhile, Goku’s gym was getting even busier, and he really did need the extra help. Vegeta was slowly but surely working through the mess of paperwork that was Goku’s nonexistent accounting system and he was getting somewhere. In fact, the numbers were looking pretty good, and Vegeta looked forward to every time he saw some silver lining at the end of a long workday. It felt good to feel like he was actually _accomplishing_ something.

On one not to special morning, Vegeta walked into the gym for his normal workout, his suitcase in hand, as he intended to go to work directly after he was through. He greeted Kakarot with a small nod. Kakarot grinned at him from across the room. Vegeta headed to his office and was about to put his things away when a younger man came up to him, calling out his name from behind. Goku was watching curiously.

Vegeta had been _trying_ his damnedest to work on being more approachable, and so he turned around to greet him respectfully. When he saw his face, though, Vegeta growled at him threateningly, defenses up.

“Hey, uh, hi, uh,” the young man said, stammering, “Remember me?”

Vegeta knew _exactly_ who he was, although he didn’t remember his name. Vegeta glared and didn’t answer.

The young man gulped and bowed to him in respect, before he braved saying, “Haven’t seen you back at the… you know…”

“What of it?!” Vegeta snapped, ready to fight.

Goku came closer.

The young man sensed his danger, but he pleaded with Vegeta eagerly, as he explained, “Look, I, uh, I had heard that you worked here and I… Well, I heard that you were going to be teaching classes soon…”

Vegeta’s eyes widened. Is his own marketing that good? Or is his reputation to blame. And what the hell should that matter to _him_?

The young man was clearly uncomfortable to be speaking with him, but he was determined to clear the air between them, “I, uh, I was wondering if… If I can be one of your pupils? Whenever you start teaching…”

Vegeta growled again.

“Look, I- I know you’re probably wondering why I would ask you that, but you and I both know that you could have won that fight…” the man said, suddenly turning a little more serious and a little less afraid, “I… I’ve never fought someone that hit as hard as you do, or fights as well as you do, and I… I would be honored if you could teach me…”

 _‘Is he serious?!’_ Vegeta wondered, skeptical. This is the young man that ruined his fucking fighting record at the fight club! Why the hell would he want to learn from _him_? He already _has_ his victory.

The man was still nervous, and he told him, now whispering, “Look, I-I’m sure you’d rather not… But I’ve been watching you fight in that ring for a long time and I… I just really respect you. I feel like you have a lot you could teach me… I, um, I didn’t really know who else I could come to and I didn’t want to go to just anyone… but I _know_ that _you’re_ the one I want to help me! I just need some guidance in my life, okay?! I…” he gulped again and then looked away.

Goku was standing off to the side by then, listening quietly. Vegeta glanced over at him, and he smiled. When Vegeta looked back at the young man he was crying.

“What the hell are you crying about?” Vegeta wondered.

“I just…” the young man sniffed, but he looked back up at him proudly and said, “I just thought that maybe you could understand me, that’s all. I can see the pain in your eyes, you know. When you’re out there, fighting with everything you’ve got. I can see it… I can _feel_ it… and it’s always reminded me of my own. I’ve always wanted to talk to you, but I’ve always been afraid to try.”

Vegeta unclenched his fist and thought about what the young man was _really_ saying. He thought about his own life and his own frustrations. His own son, who this young man reminded him very much of, and of Kakarot, the man who was standing by encouragingly, awaiting Vegeta’s decision.

He thought about what this young man _really_ needed, and he relaxed his shoulder before he answered, “I will you train you…”

The young man perked up, wiping his tears to hide his shame.

“… On one condition.”

“Anything!” the kid promised.

“You never fight there again. We train for self-discipline, and self-mastery, and self-defense- if necessary… Do you agree?”

The young man took in a sharp breath. A light of understanding came into his eyes. He nodded, “Yes, yes I agree,” he bowed, “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Tch,” Vegeta remarked, “You might regret this when we’re in that ring.”

The young man laughed gently, “No! I won’t! Thank you, Vegeta, uh, Sir!”

Vegeta flinched at that, but told him, “Give your information to him,” he gestured to Goku, “and I’ll contact you when I’m ready,” and as he looked away, unable to bear looking at the young man any longer, his eyes turned to Goku.

Goku smiled at him proudly.

Vegeta went inside of the office, closing and locking the door behind him. He needed a moment of silence to himself.

His hands were shaking, and he felt… Strangely renewed.

For the first time in his life, he felt that he was exactly where he was meant to be, and that all of the things that he’s been through in his life didn’t have to be pointless tragedies brought on by random occurrences. He realized that if he could help just one person overcome their own demons, the way that he’s been able to conquer his, then going through all of that will have been worth it.

He realized that Kakarot didn’t save him after all, but he has helped him. He saw everything bad in him, but he gave him a chance anyways. He showed him that he can live a different way. In the end, though, he had to be the one to decide to save himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone who had read and reviewed and given kudos to this story! I really appreciate you all, you just don't know what it means to me :D I write because I love KakaVege, but getting a response from you guys always brightens my day, even if it's just a click to know that someone out there is reading it, so thank you so very much! I truly hope you've enjoyed this!
> 
> Also, a special thank you to Baby_Buu for being my beta for this! Your input kept this story under control A LOT and I can't thank you enough for dealing with me, and especially how I kept asking you the same questions you over and over and over again!   
>  lol Thank you!
> 
> Take care, until next time...
> 
> TristaML


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